Eight (2/3)

by Natsume Sōseki

The explanation of the rage should be sufficient for now. I will now get to the main topic, but before a major incident, there are always smaller incidents that occur. It has been a long-standing custom for historians to speak only of major events while ignoring minor ones. The master's rage has intensified every time he encountered a small incident, ultimately leading to a major incident; therefore, if I do not explain the sequence of events, it will be difficult to understand just how enraged the master is. If it is difficult to understand, the master's rage may be dismissed as an empty name, and the public may not regard it as significant. Even if he becomes enraged, if he is not praised by others as having a "wonderful rage," it would be unfulfilling.

The incidents I am about to recount are not honorable for the master, regardless of their size. If the incident itself is dishonorable, then the rage is genuine rage and should not be considered inferior to anything else. The master does not possess any other qualities to boast about. If he does not take pride in his rage, there is nothing else to write about.

The enemy forces gathering at Rakugunkan have recently invented a type of dum-dum bullet and are directing intense gunfire towards the northern vacant lot during breaks and after school. This dum-dum bullet is commonly referred to as a "ball," and it is launched into the enemy using a large object resembling a pestle. No matter how much of a dum-dum bullet it is, since it is fired from the playground of Rakugunkan, there is no worry of it hitting the master, who is holed up in his study. The enemy is likely aware that the trajectory is far too distant, but that is the nature of military strategy. There are stories from the war in Port Arthur where indirect fire from the navy achieved significant results. Even a ball rolling into the vacant lot can yield appropriate results. Moreover, every time a shot is fired, the entire army raises a loud voice of intimidation, shouting "Wow," which makes the master feel humbled and causes the blood vessels in his limbs to constrict. It is not surprising that the blood, reaching the peak of torment, would flow backward. One can say that the enemy's strategy is quite clever.

Once upon a time, there was a writer named Iskilas in Greece. He was said to have a head common to scholar-writers. What I mean by "a head common to scholar-writers" is that he was bald. The reason for baldness is probably due to a lack of nutrients in the head, which prevents hair from growing. Scholar-writers often use their heads a lot and usually suffer from poverty. Therefore, the heads of scholar-writers are all malnourished and bald. Now, since Iskilas was also a writer, he naturally had to be bald. He had a smooth head like a kumquat.

One day, Iskilas was walking through the city, shaking his head and basking in the sunlight. This was the source of his misfortune. Exposing a bald head to sunlight makes it shine very brightly from a distance. While the wind blows through the tall trees, something must also hit the shining head. At that moment, a bird of prey was soaring above Iskilas's head. Upon closer inspection, it was grasping a turtle it had caught somewhere in its claws. Turtles and soft-shelled turtles are delicious, but they have hard shells since the time of Greece. No matter how tasty they are, there's nothing to be done with them if they have shells. The eagle, slightly at a loss, spotted something shining far below. It thought that if it dropped the turtle on that shining object, the shell would break. With that thought, it dropped the turtle onto Iskilas's head from a great height without any greeting. Unfortunately, the writer's head was softer than the turtle's shell, so the bald head was smashed to pieces, and the famous Iskilas met a tragic end here.

Now, what is incomprehensible is the eagle's thoughts. Did it drop it knowing it was the writer's head, or did it mistakenly drop it thinking it was a bald rock? By resolving this, one can compare the enemies of Rakugunkan with this eagle, or one might not be able to. The master's head does not shine like Iskiras, but since he is dozing off in his six-tatami mat study with his face buried in a difficult book, he must be regarded as one of the scholarly writers. When thinking this way, the fact that the master's head is not bald means he is not yet qualified to be bald, and he is destined to become bald eventually. If that is the case, it is only reasonable to say that the students of Rakugunkan concentrating their fire on this head with dum-dum bullets is indeed a timely strategy. If the enemy continues this action for two weeks, the master's head will surely complain of malnutrition due to fear and anguish, changing into something like a kumquat, like a kettle, like a copper pot. Furthermore, if subjected to another two weeks of bombardment, the kumquat will be crushed, the kettle will leak, and the copper pot will surely crack. It is only the person himself, Mr. Kusami, who does not foresee this obvious outcome and struggles to fight against the enemy.

One afternoon, as usual, I went out to the porch and dozed off, dreaming that I had turned into a tiger. When I asked the master to bring me chicken, he timidly brought the chicken. Just then, Meitei arrived, so I said, "I want to eat goose. Please make me a goose hot pot." Meitei replied, "If you eat pickled turnip and salted rice crackers together, you can taste the flavor of the goose," adding his usual playful tone, and I opened my mouth wide and groaned, trying to scare him. Then Meitei turned pale and said, "The goose hot pot at Yamashita has gone out of business, what should we do?"

“Then I’ll settle for beef, so hurry to Nishikawa and bring back a whole roast. If you don’t hurry, I’ll eat you alive,” he said, and Meitei tucked his tail and ran off. I suddenly grew large and sprawled across the entire engawa, waiting for Meitei to return. Then, a loud voice echoed throughout the house, and before I could enjoy the beef, my dream was shattered.

When I woke up, my master, who had been prostrating himself before me in fear, suddenly jumped out from behind the backrest and kicked me hard in the side. Before I could even think, “Oh?” my master slipped on his garden clogs and ran around the gate toward the Rakugunkan. I had suddenly turned back from a tiger to a cat, so I felt a mix of awkwardness and amusement, but the pain from my master’s kick to my side made me quickly forget about being a tiger.

At the same time, I heard my master shouting, “Thief!” Looking, I saw a stubborn young man, about eighteen or nineteen, trying to climb over the four-eyed fence. “Ah, you’re late,” I thought, but before I could finish, he dashed away like a lightning bolt toward his base. My master, having successfully caught the thief, chased after him while shouting “Thief!” again. However, to catch up, my master had to jump over the fence himself. If he got too involved, he would end up becoming a thief himself. As I mentioned earlier, my master is a fine hothead. Thus, as he chased the thief, it seemed he was willing to become a thief himself, showing no signs of turning back and advancing to the base of the fence.

Just as he was about to step into the thief’s territory, a thin-bearded officer casually emerged from among the enemy troops. The two were negotiating something at the fence. When I listened in, I found they were having such a trivial argument.

“That’s a student from our school.”

“Why is a student invading another estate?”

“Well, the ball flew over.”

“Why didn’t you refuse and come to get it?”

“I’ll be more careful from now on.”

“Then, that’s fine.”

The negotiations, which were expected to be a magnificent spectacle of dragon soaring and tiger fighting, ended swiftly and safely like this. The master's grandeur was merely in spirit, and when it came down to it, it could end at any moment. I felt as if I had suddenly returned from a tiger's dream to being a cat. This is my small incident. After describing the small incident, I must proceed to talk about the major incident in order.

The master opened the shoji of the tatami room and lay on his stomach, deep in thought. He was probably devising a defense strategy against the enemy. Rakugunkan seemed to be in class, and the playground was surprisingly quiet. However, from one room in the school building, the lecture on ethics could be clearly heard. The resonant voice articulating well was indeed that of the general who had just emerged from the enemy camp yesterday to engage in negotiations.

“...Public virtue is an important matter, and whether in France, Germany, or England, there is no country where this public virtue is not upheld. Moreover, there is no one, no matter how lowly, who does not value this public virtue. Alas, in our Japan, we are still unable to compete with foreign countries on this point. When it comes to public virtue, some may think it is something newly imported from abroad, but that is a great mistake. The ancients also consistently adhered to the teachings of the sage, and it has been said that they valued only loyalty and benevolence. This benevolence is indeed the source of public virtue. I am human too, and there are times when I want to sing loudly. However, when I hear someone in the next room singing loudly while I am studying, it is in my nature that I cannot concentrate on reading. Therefore, even when I think that reciting Tang poetry aloud might lift my spirits, if there is someone in the neighboring house who might be disturbed, I believe I must not disturb that person, and I always refrain during such times. For this reason, everyone should also strive to uphold public virtue and must never do anything that might interfere with others...”

The master was listening attentively to this lecture, but at this point, he smiled slightly. It is necessary to explain the meaning of this smile a little. If a cynic were to read this, they would think that there is a critical element hidden behind this smile. However, the master is certainly not a bad man in that way. Rather than being bad, he is simply not a man of such developed wisdom. The reason the master laughed is that he was genuinely pleased. Because the ethics teacher gives such a poignant admonition, he would surely be exempt from the indiscriminate firing of dum-dum bullets from now on. For the time being, he would likely avoid going bald, and even if his anger does not subside immediately, it will gradually recover when the time comes. He assessed that he would be fine without receiving a wet towel, without sitting by the kotatsu, and without having to stay under a tree or on a stone, which is why he smiled. It is only natural for a master who is someone who always repays his debts and thinks honestly even in the twentieth century to listen to this lecture seriously.

Eventually, it seemed that the time had come, and the lecture abruptly stopped. The classes in the other classrooms also ended all at once. Then, the eight hundred students who had been sealed inside the room burst out with a cheer and flew out of the building. Their momentum was as if they had knocked down a beehive about a foot tall. Buzzing and barking, they rushed out from the windows, the doorways, the openings, and any holes without any hesitation, as if they were competing to get out. This is the beginning of a major incident.

First, let me explain the formation of the bees. Some may wonder if there is such a formation in war, but that is a misconception. Generally, when people think of war, they envision large battles like those at Shahe, Fengtian, or Lüshun. Those with a slightly poetic sensibility might imagine grand battles, such as Achilles dragging Hector's corpse around the walls of Troy three times, or Yan and Zhang Fei glaring back at Cao Cao's army at Changban Bridge. However, it is inappropriate to discuss war solely based on such associations. While there may have been wars like that in the ancient barbaric times, it is almost miraculous that such barbaric actions occur in today's peaceful era, especially in the heart of Tokyo. No matter what commotion arises, it is unlikely to go beyond the burning of a police box.

Considering this, the war between Master Kusha-mi of the Garyō Cave and the warrior behind the Rakun-kan should be counted as one of the great wars in Tokyo City. When the left historian records the Battle of Ling, it is customary to first describe the enemy's formation. Since ancient times, those skilled in narration have all employed this technique. Therefore, it is not in vain for me to discuss the formation of the bees.

Now, looking at the formation of the bees, there is a squad that has formed a column outside the fourth fence. They seem to have the role of luring the master into the combat line. "Will you surrender?" "No, no." "No way, no way." "Won't you come out?" "I wonder if they'll fall." "They shouldn't fall." "Bark!" "Woof woof." "Woof woof." "Woof woof woof woof," they are raising their voices. From here on, the entire column will shout in unison.

To the right of the formation, there is a training ground where an artillery unit has established its position. Facing the Garyō Cave, a single officer is standing by with a pestle. A few paces in front of him, another officer is standing. Behind the pestle, there is another person standing towards the Garyō Cave. This is how the gunners are lined up in a straight line. According to some, this is baseball practice and is definitely not a preparation for battle. I am illiterate and do not know much about baseball, but I have heard that it is a game imported from America and is now the most popular sport in schools above middle school. Since America is a country that comes up with bizarre ideas, it is not surprising to mistake it for an artillery unit. Teaching this noisy game to the Japanese might also be their kindness.

However, even if it is a pure game, as long as it has the power to surprise those around it, there is a possibility it could be used for war. Just as there are those who commit fraud under the guise of charity, it is also possible to conduct war under the name of baseball. The baseball I describe is limited to this special case and refers to siege artillery.

From here, I will introduce the method of firing dum-dum bullets. One of the gunners in the straight line of artillery holds a dum-dum bullet in his right hand and throws it to the one holding the pestle. What the dum-dum bullet is made of is unknown to outsiders. It is something like a hard round stone ball wrapped in leather and sewn together. As mentioned earlier, when this bullet leaves the hand of one of the gunners and cuts through the air, the person standing on the other side will raise the pestle and hit it back. Sometimes it misses and the bullet goes astray, but most of the time it bounces back with a loud noise. The force is very strong, and it is easy to crush the head of a person with nervous stomach weakness.

The gunners are sufficient with just this, but around them, soldiers accompany like a cloud of mist. When the pestle hits the dumpling, they exclaim, "Wow, pop pop pop," and applaud, saying, "Oh dear." "Did it hit?" "Is this not effective?" "Aren't you impressed?" "Are you surrendering?" they call out one after another. This is not all, but the bullets that are knocked back will inevitably roll into the Dragon's Cave once every three times. If this does not roll in, the purpose of the attack will not be achieved.

Dum-dum bullets are being manufactured in various places recently, but they are very expensive. Even in war, it is not possible to obtain a sufficient supply. Normally, one or two bullets are allocated to a squad of gunners. Every time there is a bang, they cannot afford to waste this precious bullet. Therefore, they establish a unit called "bullet pickers" to go and collect the fallen bullets. If the place where they fall is good, it is easy to pick them up, but if they land in a meadow or inside someone's house, it is not so easy to come back.

Thus, normally to avoid effort, they should drop them in easy-to-pick-up places, but this time they take the opposite action. Since the purpose is not for play but for war, they deliberately let dum-dum bullets fall inside the master's estate. Since they let them fall inside the estate, they must go in and pick them up. The easiest way to enter the estate is to climb over the four-sided fence. If they cause a commotion inside the four-sided fence, the master will surely get angry. Otherwise, they will have to take off their helmet and surrender. Out of distress, their heads will gradually become bald.

The bullets fired from the enemy forces flew over the fourth fence, shaking off the leaves of the paulownia tree, and struck the next wall, the bamboo fence. A loud sound echoed. According to Newton's laws of motion, if no other forces are applied, an object that has started moving will continue to move in a straight line at a constant speed. If the motion of the object were governed solely by this law, the master's head might have met its fate by now. However, fortunately, thanks to Newton's second law, the master's head narrowly escaped with its life. The second law of motion states that the change in motion is proportional to the force applied and occurs in the direction of that force. This may be a bit difficult to understand, but it can be considered that the reason the dum-dum bullet did not pierce through the bamboo fence and injure the master's head is precisely due to Newton's influence.

After a while, as expected, the enemy invaded the estate. "Is this it?" "More to the left," the sound of a stick hitting the bamboo leaves echoed. When the enemy enters the master's estate to pick up the dum-dum bullets, they always make loud noises. They cannot achieve their goal by sneaking in and quietly picking them up. The dum-dum bullets may be valuable, but mocking the master is even more important. At this time, even from a distance, the position of the bullets was clearly understood. They knew the sound of hitting the bamboo fence and where it struck. They were also aware of the ground where it fell. Therefore, if they picked it up quietly, they could collect as many as they wanted. According to Leibniz's definition, space is the order of possible coexisting phenomena. The syllables of the Japanese alphabet always appear in the same order. There is always a loach under the willow. Bats are accompanied by the evening moon. While a ball may not suit a fence, to those who throw balls into people's estates every day, this arrangement is familiar. It becomes immediately apparent upon seeing it. Making a fuss about it is ultimately a strategy to challenge the master to war.

In this situation, no matter how passive the master may be, he has no choice but to fight back. Just a moment ago, the master was grinning while listening to a lecture on ethics in the tatami room, but now he stood up with determination and dashed forward fiercely. And, astonishingly, he managed to capture one of the enemies alive. This is quite an achievement for the master. However, upon closer inspection, that enemy was just a child of about fourteen or fifteen. It seems a bit mismatched for an enemy of a bearded master. Nevertheless, the master probably thought this was sufficient. He forcibly dragged the child he had captured and brought him to the front of the porch.

Here, it is necessary to touch upon the enemy's strategy a little. The enemy had anticipated that the master, having seen the authority yesterday, would certainly come out to fight today. If by any chance he failed to escape and the great monk was captured, it would become a troublesome matter. Therefore, they thought it best to send a young child to pick up the jewels to avoid danger. Even if the master captured the child and dithered about with reasoning, it would have no bearing on the honor of Rakugunkan. Dealing with such a thing would only bring shame to the master, who should be above such trivialities. This was the enemy's thinking, and it is quite reasonable from the perspective of an ordinary person. However, the enemy forgot to consider that the opponent was not an ordinary person. If the master had this much common sense, he would not have rushed out yesterday either. Rage elevates ordinary people beyond their usual limits and imposes absurdity on those who are normally sensible. As long as one can distinguish between women, children, carters, and horse drivers, it is still insufficient to boast about one's rage. Unless one has the mindset to capture a first-year middle school student like the master and use him as a hostage in war, one cannot join the ranks of the enraged. The unfortunate ones are the captives. Simply following the orders of upperclassmen, they were serving as foot soldiers picking up jewels, but unfortunately, they were cornered by the absurd enemy commander, a genius of rage, and before they knew it, they were brought before the garden.

In this situation, the enemy army cannot simply watch the disgrace of their allies in peace. One by one, they leap over the four-sided fence and rush into the garden through the gate. Their number is about a dozen, lined up neatly in front of the master. Most are not even wearing jackets, rolling up the sleeves of their white shirts, with some crossing their arms. There are those who are only draped in a cotton flannel shirt over their backs. Among them, there are stylish individuals who have sewn flower characters of the same color in the center of their chests on white cotton with black borders. They all appear to be fierce warriors, with their muscles developed dark and robust, as if they had just arrived from the mountain of Sasayama in the country of Tanba last night. It seems a pity to put them into middle school for studies. They have rolled up their long underpants high on their bare feet, standing in front of the master with an appearance as if they are about to help with the nearby fire. They stand silently without uttering a word, and the master does not open his mouth either. For a while, both sides glare at each other, and a tense atmosphere hangs in the air.

“Are you thieves?” the master asked. Anger surged up, and the tantrum ball that was crushed between his molars burst into flames, escaping through his nostrils, making his nostrils appear remarkably angry. The nose of the Echigo lion seems to have been modeled after the shape of a human when angry. Otherwise, it could not be made so terrifying.

“No, we are not thieves. We are students of Rakugunkan.”

“Don’t lie. Is there anyone from Rakugunkan who would invade someone’s garden without permission?”

“But look, we are properly wearing hats with the school emblem.”

“They must be fake. If you are students of Rakugunkan, why did you invade recklessly?”