Four (2/3)

by Natsume Sōseki

"It's not my problem," the husband said with a hint of anger.

"It's my head, so I don't care," I replied, but still concerned, I placed my right hand on my head and began to stroke the bald spot. "Oh, it's gotten quite large. I didn't think it would be this much," it seemed I finally realized that my baldness was progressing as expected for my age.

"When women tie their hair up, it pulls here, so everyone gets bald," I began to defend a little.

"If everyone goes bald at that pace, by the time they reach forty, they'll all have heads like kettles. That must be a disease. It might be contagious, so you should have Amaki-san take a look at it soon," the husband kept stroking his own head.

"You talk so much about others, but don't you have white hair in your nostrils? If baldness is contagious, then white hair must be contagious too," the wife said a bit huffily.

"White hair in the nose is not visible, so it doesn't harm, but if the top of the head—especially a young woman's head—is that bald, it's unsightly. It's a defect," the husband said.

"If it's a defect, then why did you marry me? You liked me enough to marry me, and now you call it a defect..."

"I didn't know. I had no idea until today. If you're going to be so arrogant, why didn't you show your head when you came to be my bride?" the husband said.

"What nonsense! In what country do they have a test for heads, and if you pass, you can marry? That doesn't happen," the wife retorted.

"I can tolerate baldness, but you're exceptionally short. It's very unsightly," the husband continued.

"You can tell someone's height just by looking. I knew you were short from the beginning when I married you," the wife countered.

"I understand that, but I thought it would still grow, so I took it," the master said with a serious face, presenting a strange reasoning, when the bell at the gate rang vigorously, and a loud voice asking for something was heard. It seems that Suzuki-kun has come to visit Professor Kusami's Garyokutsu with the intention of getting some penpen grass.

The wife postponed the argument for another day and hurriedly grabbed the sewing box and her sleeveless jacket, escaping into the tea room. The master rolled up a mouse-colored blanket and threw it into the study. Eventually, when he saw the business card brought by the maid, the master looked a bit surprised, but he said, "Please show him in," and crawled into the back room while still holding the card. He was confused, not understanding why he suddenly entered the back room or the reason for taking Suzuki Tōjūrō-kun's business card. In any case, the one who was troubled was the business card holder, who was ordered to accompany him to a smelly place.

The maid adjusted the patterned cushion in front of the floor and stepped back, saying, "Please come this way." After that, Suzuki-kun took a moment to look around the room. He inspected one by one the fake wooden plaque inscribed with "Hanakai Bankoku Haru" hanging on the floor, and the cherry blossoms arranged in a cheap celadon vase made in Kyoto. Then, he suddenly looked at the futon that the maid had suggested, and to his surprise, a cat was sitting there calmly. Needless to say, that cat was me. At that moment, a slight wave stirred in Suzuki-kun's heart. On the futon laid out for him, an unusual animal was sitting there nonchalantly without permission before he even got on it. This was the first condition that disrupted Suzuki-kun's peace of mind. If the futon had been left as recommended, without a master, to be blown by the spring breeze, Suzuki-kun might have deliberately expressed humility and endured on the hard tatami until his master said, "Please, go ahead." However, someone had already sat on the futon he was supposed to own without any greeting. If it were a human, he might have given way, but with a cat, that was unacceptable. The fact that the occupant was a cat further increased his discomfort. This was the second condition that disrupted Suzuki-kun's peace of mind. Finally, the cat's attitude was the most irritating. Whether it was slightly pitying or not, it sat arrogantly on the futon it had no right to be on, blinking its round, unfriendly eyes, as if to say, "Who do you think you are?" while staring at Suzuki-kun's face. This was the third condition that destroyed his peace. If he was so dissatisfied, he could just grab me by the scruff of my neck and drag me off, but Suzuki-kun remained silent and watched. It is inconceivable for a dignified human to fear a cat and not take action, so why doesn’t he quickly dispose of me and express his dissatisfaction? This is entirely because Suzuki-kun wants to maintain his own dignity as a human being.It is due to the center of gravity. If I were to resort to physical strength, even a three-foot-tall child could handle me freely, but considering the importance of face, Suzuki-kun cannot do anything about the cat deity that sits in the middle of this two-foot square. No matter how much it is a place where no one is watching, to have a seat dispute with a cat would affect human dignity in the slightest. Seriously arguing with a cat over rights and wrongs is indeed very childish. It is ridiculous. To avoid this disgrace, one must endure a bit of inconvenience. However, the more one must endure, the more the feeling of hatred towards the cat increases, and Suzuki-kun sometimes looks at my face with a bitter expression. I find it amusing to see Suzuki-kun's dissatisfied face, so I suppress my ridiculous feelings and try to maintain a nonchalant expression as much as possible.

While this silent drama unfolds between Suzuki-kun and me, the master adjusted his clothing and came out from the back, saying, "Ah," as he took his seat, but judging by the fact that not even a shadow of the business card he was holding was visible, it seems that the name of Suzuki Tōjūrō-kun has been sentenced to life imprisonment in a stinky place. Before I could even think that the business card had encountered a stroke of bad luck, the master grabbed the collar of this guy and threw him towards the veranda.

“Now, please spread it out. How unusual. When did you come to Tokyo?” the master offers the futon to his old friend. Suzuki-kun flipped it over a bit and then sat on it.

“I hadn’t informed you because I’ve been busy, but actually, I’ve been returning to the headquarters in Tokyo since a while ago…”

“That’s good to hear. It’s been quite a long time since we last met. Isn’t this the first time since you went to the countryside?”

“Yeah, it’s been almost ten years. I do come to Tokyo occasionally, but I have a lot of errands, so I always end up being rude. I hope you don’t take it the wrong way. The company is quite busy, unlike your work.”

"It's amazing how much things change in ten years," the master said, looking up and down at Suzuki-kun. Suzuki-kun had neatly parted hair, wore British-style tweed, sported a flashy collar decoration, and even had a gold chain shining on his chest. He was hard to believe as the old friend of Kusama-kun.

"Yeah, I've had to hang this kind of thing now," Suzuki-kun said, glancing at the gold chain.

"Is that real?" the master asked bluntly.

"It's eighteen karat," Suzuki-kun replied with a laugh. "You've aged quite a bit too. You were supposed to have kids, right? Just one?"

"Nope."

"Two?"

"Nope."

"Still more, then? So, three?"

"Yeah, there are three. I don't know how many more there will be in the future."

"You're still saying things so casually. How old is the oldest one now? It must be quite a bit by now."

"Yeah, I'm not sure how old exactly, but probably around six or seven."

"Hahaha, it's nice to be a teacher and carefree. I should have become a teacher too."

"Try it, you'll hate it in three days."

"Is that so? It seems so elegant and easy, with free time to study what you like. Being a businessman isn't bad, but in our position, it's boring. If you're going to be a businessman, you have to rise much higher. When you're at the lower level, you end up saying boring flattery and fawning over people you don't like; it's quite foolish."

"I've hated businessmen since school. They'll do anything for money; they're just commoners, as they used to say," he said, laying out his thoughts in front of the businessman.

"I can't say that's entirely true, but there are certainly some vulgar aspects. In any case, if you're not prepared to be tossed around by money and emotions, you can't go through with it—however, that money is tricky. I went to speak with some businessmen recently, and they said you have to use triangular techniques to make money—lacking obligation, lacking humanity, lacking shame; that's what makes a triangle, they say. Isn't that interesting? Ahahaha."

“Who is such a fool?”

“Not a fool, but quite a clever man. He's somewhat famous in the business world. You don't know him? He's just down the alley.”

“Kaneda? What about that guy?”

“You're really angry. Oh, that was just a joke, you know. It's just a saying that you won't save money if you don't keep it light. You shouldn't interpret it so seriously like you do.”

“The triangle technique might be a joke, but what about that lady's nose over there? You must have seen it if you went there.”

“The wife? She's quite a capable person.”

“I'm talking about the nose, the big nose. The other day, I wrote a haiku about that nose.”

“What? A haiku?”

“You don't know what a haiku is? You're quite out of touch with the times.”

“Well, when you're as busy as I am, literature is completely out of the question. Besides, I haven't been very lucky for a while.”

“Do you know the shape of Charlemagne's nose?”

“Hahaha, you're quite relaxed about it. I don't know.”

“Ellington was nicknamed 'Nose Nose' by his subordinates. Do you know that?”

“Why are you so concerned about noses? It doesn't matter if a nose is round or pointed.”

“That's not the case at all. Do you know Pascal?”

“You keep asking if I know things, it's like I'm here to take a test. What about Pascal?”

“Pascal said something like this.”

“What did he say?”

“He said that if Cleopatra's nose had been a little shorter, it would have caused a great change in the surface of the world.”

“I see.”

“So you shouldn't casually mock a nose like you do.”

“Well, that's fine. I'll take care of it from now on. By the way, I came here because I have a little business with you today—about that Mizushima you mentioned, yes, Mizushima, I can't quite recall. —Right, they say he comes to your place all the time.”

“Kangetsu?”

"Yes, yes, Kanketsu Kanketsu. I came here because I wanted to ask a little about that person."

"Isn't it about the marriage incident?"

"Well, it's somewhat similar to that. When I went to Kaneda today..."

"The other day, the nose came by itself."

"I see. Yes, my wife said the same thing. I thought I would ask Kurumaya-san, but unfortunately, Meitei was there and interrupted, making it all confusing."

"It's bad because he comes with that kind of nose."

"No, I'm not talking about you. It was because that Meitei-kun was there that I couldn't ask anything too intrusive, so it was unfortunate. I was asked to go again and listen carefully, you see. I've never done such a thing before, but if the parties involved don't mind, it's not necessarily a bad thing to mediate, so that's why I came."

“Thank you for your hard work,” the master replied coldly, but deep down, upon hearing the words “the parties involved,” for some reason, his heart stirred slightly. It felt as if a cool breeze had slipped through the cuffs on a muggy summer night. Originally, this master was a blunt man with a stubborn personality, but that does not mean he is a cold and heartless product of civilization, differing from his own choices. When he says something, it is not out of anger or irritation; he can grasp the situation here. The other day, he had a quarrel with the nose because he disliked it, and the nose's daughter is not to blame in this matter. He dislikes businessmen, so he must also dislike Kaneda, who is part of the business world, but this is unrelated to the daughter herself. He holds no grudges or debts towards her, and Kange gets along better with his disciple than with his own brother. If what Suzuki-kun says is true, that the parties involved are fond of each other, then indirectly obstructing this is not the behavior of a gentleman. — Even so, Kusama-sensei considers himself a gentleman. — If the parties involved are fond of each other — but that is the problem. To change his attitude towards this incident, he must first ascertain the truth.

“Hey, does that girl want to go to Kange? I don’t care about Kaneda or the nose, but what about the girl’s own feelings?”

“Well, um — how should I put it — uh, I think she wants to go,” Suzuki-kun replied somewhat ambiguously. In fact, he thought it would be enough to just ask about Kange and return, so he hadn’t confirmed the young lady’s intentions. Therefore, even Suzuki-kun, who was smoothly advancing the conversation, seemed a bit flustered.

“Then that’s an unclear statement,” the master had a personality that could not be satisfied unless he confronted everything head-on.

“No, it’s just that I expressed myself poorly. The young lady does indeed have her own will. No, really — uh? — my wife told me so. She sometimes speaks ill of Kange, it seems.”

“That girl?”

“Ah.”

"What a thing to say, to speak ill of someone. First of all, that would mean that Kangu has no will of his own."

"That's the strange thing about the world; sometimes people speak ill of those they like."

"What kind of foolish person exists in this world?" the master said, completely unmoved even when touched by the subtleties of human emotions.

"There are plenty of foolish people in the world, so it can't be helped. In fact, Kaneda's wife interprets it that way too. She sometimes speaks ill of Kangu, saying he seems like a bewildered gourd, so she must be thinking about it quite a bit in her heart."

The master listened to this puzzling interpretation, and it was so unexpected that he widened his eyes and remained silent, staring intently at Suzuki-kun's face like a fortune teller. Seeing this, Suzuki-kun thought he needed to steer the conversation in a direction the master could understand.

"If you think about it, you'll understand. With that much wealth and that kind of talent, he could be married off to a suitable family anywhere. Kangu might be admirable, but in terms of status—well, it might be rude to say status—but from the perspective of wealth, it's clearly unbalanced to anyone. The reason my parents are so worried that I have to go out of my way is that the person himself must have feelings for Kangu," Suzuki-kun explained with quite a good argument. This time, the master seemed to understand and finally felt relieved, but he decided in his heart that it was better to quickly move the conversation along and fulfill his mission as soon as possible, lest he risk another reprimand for dawdling.

"So, you see. For the reasons I just mentioned, the other party does not want money or property, but instead, they want the qualifications associated with the person—by qualifications, I mean a title. They are boasting that it would be fine to do it once they become a doctor. Don't get me wrong. The other day, when my wife came, Meitei-kun was there, and he was saying all sorts of strange things—no, it's not your fault. My wife praised you for being honest without flattery. It was really Meitei-kun's fault. So, if the person becomes a doctor, they say it would give them a wider standing in society and a sense of pride. What do you think? Isn't Mizushima-kun going to submit his doctoral thesis soon and receive his doctorate? Well, for Kaneda, a doctorate or a bachelor's degree isn't necessary. However, since there is society to consider, it won't be that simple."

Hearing this, it began to seem that requesting a doctorate from the other party wasn't unreasonable. If I don't think it's unreasonable, I feel inclined to respond to Suzuki-kun's request. The fate of the master rests entirely in Suzuki-kun's hands. Indeed, the master is a simple and honest man.

"Then, when Kangu gets here next time, I'll suggest that he write a doctoral thesis. However, I first need to clarify whether he intends to marry Kaneda's daughter."

"Clarifying things like that, you know, isn't the way to get things settled. It's best to subtly draw it out in a normal conversation."

"Draw it out?"

"Yeah, saying 'draw it out' might be misleading. —Well, even without drawing it out, you can naturally understand it while talking."

"You might understand it, but I won't get it unless I hear it clearly."

“Well, if you don’t understand, that’s fine. However, I think it’s not good to say unnecessary things and ruin it like Meitei-kun does. Even if you don’t recommend it, this kind of thing should be left to the person’s own discretion. When Kanguu-kun comes next time, please try not to disturb him as much as possible. — No, I’m not talking about you, I’m talking about that Meitei-kun. There’s no way to be saved when it’s in that man’s mouth,” as he speaks ill of Meitei as the master’s proxy, Meitei-sensei comes floating in through the back door, riding the spring breeze, like a shadow when he is mentioned.

“Wow, what a rare guest. When it comes to someone like me, Kusami can’t help but be rude. It’s limited to coming to Kusami’s place about once every ten years. This confection is better than usual,” he says, carelessly stuffing his mouth with Fujimura’s yokan. Suzuki-kun is fidgeting. The master is grinning. Meitei is mumbling. I watched this scene from the side and thought that a silent play can certainly exist. If silent questioning in a Zen house is telepathy, then this silent play is clearly a curtain of telepathy. It’s very short, but it’s a very sharp curtain.

“I thought you were a lifelong traveler, but you’ve returned before I knew it. I want to live a long life. You never know what kind of luck you might encounter,” Meitei speaks to Suzuki-kun without any hesitation, just like he does to the master. Even if they’re fellow cooks, if you haven’t seen each other for ten years, you would naturally be a bit considerate, but with Meitei-kun, such a demeanor is completely absent, which makes it hard to tell if it’s admirable or foolish.

“Poor thing, it’s not that you’re so foolish,” Suzuki-kun replied with a noncommittal answer, but somehow he seemed unsettled, nervously fiddling with the usual gold chain.

“Have you taken the electric railway?” the master suddenly poses a strange question to Suzuki-kun.

“Today, it feels like I came to be teased by everyone. No matter how much of a country bumpkin, I still own sixty shares of the streetcar,” he replies.

"That's not something to be taken lightly. I had eight hundred eighty-eight and a half stocks, but unfortunately, most of them were eaten by bugs, and now only half a stock is left. If you had come to Tokyo a little earlier, I could have given you about ten stocks that weren't eaten by bugs; it's a pity."

"You're still as harsh as ever. But jokes aside, having stocks like that is never a loss. Their value increases year by year."

"That's right, if you hold even half a stock for a thousand years, you could probably build about three warehouses. Both you and I are talented individuals who don't overlook such things, but Kuruma is really pitiful. He only thinks of stocks as being related to radishes." Saying this, he looked at his master while nibbling on some yokan, and the master, infected by Meitei's appetite, naturally reached for the plate of sweets. In this world, anything proactive has the right to be imitated by others.

"I don't care about stocks, but I wanted to let Sorozaki ride a train at least once." The master stared blankly at the bite mark on the half-eaten yokan.

"If Sorozaki rides a train, he'll end up going to Shinagawa every time. It's better for him to be a natural hermit, safely carved into a daikon stone."

"I heard that Sorozaki has passed away. That's unfortunate; he was a smart man, such a pity." When Suzuki-kun said this, Meitei immediately replied.

"He was smart, but he was the worst at cooking rice. When it was Sorozaki's turn, I would go out and survive on soba."

"Really, the rice Sorozaki cooked smelled burnt, and it almost broke my spirit. Moreover, as a side dish, he always served plain tofu, so it was cold and inedible." Suzuki-kun also recalled his dissatisfaction from ten years ago and spoke up.

“Kusami has been a close friend of Sorozaki since that era, and they used to go out every night to eat sweet red bean soup together, but now he suffers from chronic stomach weakness due to that curse. To be honest, there’s a reason why it wouldn’t be strange if Kusami died before Sorozaki, as he ate more sweet red bean soup.”

“What kind of logic is that in any country? Instead of your sweet red bean soup, you go out every night with a bamboo sword, claiming it’s exercise, and got caught by the monk while hitting the stone pagoda.” the master countered, exposing Meitei's past as well.

“Ahahaha, that’s right, the monk said to stop hitting the Buddha’s head because it would disturb his peaceful sleep. But mine was a bamboo sword, while General Suzuki’s was a hand strike. I ended up rolling about three small stones while wrestling with the stone pagoda.”

“The way the monk got angry at that time was truly fierce. He told me to wake it up as before, and when I said to wait until I hired some laborers, he insisted that it wouldn’t do, saying that to express remorse, one must wake it up oneself, or it would go against the Buddha’s will.”

“You had quite the appearance back then. Wearing a gold-striped shirt and a traditional loincloth, groaning in a puddle after the rain...”

“For you to sketch that with a composed face is infuriating. I’m not a man who gets angry often, but I thought it was disrespectful at that time. I still remember your words from that time; do you remember them?”

“Who remembers words from ten years ago? But I still remember that the stone pagoda had ‘Kisenin Don Ko Kaku Taishi An'ei 5th Year, Year of the Dragon, January’ engraved on it. That stone pagoda was made with an ancient elegance. I even wanted to steal it when I moved. It truly adhered to the principles of aesthetics and was a Gothic-style stone pagoda.” Meitei again brandished his nonsensical aesthetics.

"That's fine, but your words are like this―― 'I intend to major in aesthetics, so I must sketch interesting events between heaven and earth as references for the future. Personal feelings like pity or sympathy are not something a scholar like me should express.' You would say that without a care, right? I thought I was being too unfeeling, so I tore your sketchbook apart with my muddy hands."

"My promising artistic talent came to a complete halt and has not flourished at all since that time. You broke my momentum. I hold a grudge against you."