Ten (3/4)

by Natsume Sōseki

"Oh, so Yukie-san is planning to become a foolish bamboo?"

"No way, foolish bamboo. I don't want to become something like that. Kaneda's Tomiko-san was really angry about it, you know."

"Kaneda's Tomiko-san, the one from Mukoyoko-cho?"

"Yes, that stylish lady."

"Does that person also attend Yukie-san's school?"

"No, she just came to observe the women's association. She's really stylish. It's surprising."

"But they say she's really beautiful."

"She's ordinary. It's not something to brag about. If you put on that much makeup, most people will look good."

"Then if Yukie-san put on makeup like that person, she'd probably be twice as beautiful as Kaneda-san."

"Oh, no. Don't say such things. I don't know. But that person really overdoes it. No matter how much money you have—"

"Isn't it better to have money even if you overdo it?"

"That's true, but that person should become a little foolish bamboo. She's so arrogantly boastful. The other day, she was bragging about how some poet dedicated a new poetry collection to her."

"It must be Toufu-san."

"Oh, if that person dedicated it, it must be quite an oddity."

"But Toufu-san is really serious. She thinks it's only natural to do something like that."

"That's why there are people like her, it's not good. —And there's something even more interesting. The other day, someone apparently sent her a love letter."

"Oh, how scandalous. Who did such a thing?"

"They say they don't know who it was."

"Is there no name?"

"The name is written clearly, but it's from someone I've never heard of. Moreover, it's a long letter filled with various strange things. It says that my love for you is just like a religious person's longing for God, that it would be the highest honor to be a lamb sacrificed on the altar for you, and that my heart is shaped like a triangle, with Cupid's arrow standing at the center of the triangle, and if it were a blow dart, it would be a bullseye..."

"Is that serious?"

"Apparently, it is serious. In fact, three of my friends have seen that letter."

"What a terrible person to flaunt something like that. That person is planning to marry Mr. Kanketsu, so it would be a problem if that got known to the public."

"Far from being a problem, it's quite a delight. When Mr. Kanketsu comes next time, it would be good to let him know. He probably doesn't know anything about it."

"I wonder, since that person is always at school polishing balls, they probably don't know much."

"Does Mr. Kanketsu really intend to marry that person? How unfortunate."

"Why? They have money and can be a support in times of need, isn't that good?"

"Auntie, you're always talking about money, which is quite vulgar. Isn't love more important than money? Without love, a marital relationship cannot be established."

"Well then, where do you intend to marry, Yukie?"

"How would I know? There's nothing in particular."

As Yukie and her aunt were passionately discussing marriage, Tonko, who had been listening without understanding, suddenly spoke up. "I want to get married too."

This reckless hope was indeed filled with youthful spirit, and Yukie seemed a bit surprised, but the lady of the house remained relatively calm and asked with a smile, "Where do you want to go?"

"Well, actually, I want to marry at the Shokonsha, but I'm hesitant about crossing the Suidobashi, so I'm wondering what to do."

Madam and Yukie were so taken aback by this brilliant answer that they had no courage to respond, and they couldn't help but burst into laughter. At that moment, the second daughter, Sunko, approached her sister with a suggestion.

“Do you like the shrine too, big sister? I love it! Let's go to the shrine together as brides. Okay? No? If you don't want to, that's fine. I'll just hop in the car and go by myself.”

“Is Grandpa going too?” Eventually, even Grandpa was going to the shrine as a bride. If the three of them could go to the shrine together, the master would surely have an easier time.

At that moment, the sound of a car rattled to a stop in front of the gate, and immediately a lively voice shouted, “Welcome back!” It seemed the master had returned from the Nipponzaka police station. The coachman handed a large furoshiki bundle to the maid, and the master entered the tea room leisurely. “Ah, you’re here,” he greeted Yukie, and casually tossed the tokkuri he was holding next to the famous long hibachi. The tokkuri was not a pure tokkuri, nor could it be thought of as a flower vase; it was a kind of peculiar pottery, which is why it was described this way.

“What a strange tokkuri, did you get that from the police?” Yukie asked her uncle while picking up the fallen item. Her uncle, looking at Yukie's face, boasted, “What do you think, it looks good, doesn’t it?”

“Looks good? Really? It’s not that great. Why did you bring an oil jar?”

“It’s not an oil jar. It’s troublesome when you say things that have no taste.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s a flower vase.”

“For a flower vase, the opening is too small, and the body is oddly bulging.”

“That’s what makes it interesting. You have no sense of style either. You’re just like Aunt, with no taste at all. It’s quite a problem,” he said, picking up the oil jar by himself and gazing towards the shoji.

"After all, it's not very refined. I can't just go get an oil pot from the police. Hey, Aunt." The aunt was too preoccupied, unwrapping a furoshiki and examining the stolen goods with wide eyes. "Oh, I'm surprised. Thieves have improved, haven't they? Everything is unwrapped and washed. Hey, just a moment, you."

"Who would go get an oil pot from the police? I was bored waiting, so I dug it up while taking a walk around there. You wouldn't understand, but it's still a rare item."

"It's too rare. Where exactly did you take a walk, Uncle?"

"Where? Around Nihonbashi. I even went into Yoshiwara. It's quite a lively place. Have you ever seen that iron gate? I bet you haven't."

"Who would go to such a place? There's no reason to go to Yoshiwara, where those kinds of women are. Even though you're a teacher, I can't believe you went to such a place. I'm really surprised. Hey, Aunt, Aunt."

"Yes, it seems like we're short on items. I wonder if everyone has returned by now."

"The only ones not returning are the mountain yams. They originally said to report at nine, but making us wait until eleven, is there such a law? That's why the Japanese police are no good."

"The Japanese police being no good, but walking around Yoshiwara is even worse. If that gets known, you'll get fired. Hey, Aunt."

"Yes, that would happen. You see, one side of my obi is missing. I thought something was lacking."

"I can give up on one side of the obi. I've been made to wait for three hours, wasting half a day of precious time," he said, changing into Japanese clothes and casually leaning against the hibachi, gazing at the oil pot. The wife also resigned herself, putting the returned items straight into the cupboard and returning to her seat.

"Aunt, you say this oil pot is a rare item, but isn't it dirty?"

“Did you buy that in Yoshiwara? Well...”

“What do you mean, well? You don't understand.”

“Even so, if it's such a vase, you can find it anywhere without going to Yoshiwara.”

“But you can't find it. It's not something you come across often.”

“Uncle, you're quite the stone Jizo, aren't you?”

“You're being cheeky again, even though you're just a child. The recent female students have such foul mouths. You should read a bit of women's university literature.”

“Uncle, you dislike insurance, right? Which do you dislike more, female students or insurance?”

“I don't dislike insurance. It's a necessary thing. Anyone who thinks about the future should get it. Female students are unnecessary baggage.”

“Even unnecessary baggage can be good. Especially when you don't even have insurance.”

“I plan to get it starting next month.”

“Really?”

“It's true.”

“Stop it with the insurance. You should buy something with that money instead. Hey, Auntie,” the aunt chuckles. The master speaks seriously.

“You say such carefree things because you think you'll live a hundred or two hundred years, but it's only natural to develop a bit of reason and feel the need for insurance. You must definitely get it starting next month.”

“Well, if that's the case, there's no helping it. But if you have money to buy a bat umbrella like last time, it might be better to get insurance instead. Even when people say they don't want it, you insist on buying it for them.”

“Did you not want it that much?”

“No, I don't want a bat umbrella.”

“Then you can return it. Just in time, Tonko wants it, so I'll pass it on to her. Did you bring it today?”

“Oh, that's too much. You bought it for me with such effort, and now you want me to return it?”

“You said you didn't want it, so I'm saying to return it. I'm not irritated at all.”

“I don't want it, but I am irritated.”

“Don't say things you don't understand. You say you don't want it, so I say to return it, but how can you be irritated?”

“But...”

"What happened?"

"I'm just frustrated."

"That's foolish, repeating the same thing over and over."

"But uncle, you're repeating the same thing too."

"It's because you keep repeating it that there's no other choice. You clearly said you didn't need it."

"I did say that. I don't need it, but I don't want to return it."

"I'm surprised. You're so stubborn, there's no helping it. Don't they teach logic at your school?"

"That's fine, since I'm uneducated anyway, say whatever you want. Asking to return someone else's things is something even others wouldn't say. Just try to imitate a little bit of common sense."

"What should I imitate?"

"I'm saying to be a little honest and indifferent."

"You're a fool yet so obstinate. That's why you fail."

"Even if I fail, uncle won't provide me with tuition."

Ms. Yukikawa, unable to suppress her emotions at this point, let her tears fall onto her purple hakama. The master stared blankly, contemplating the psychological reasons behind those tears, while gazing at Ms. Yukikawa's face, which was bowed down over her hakama. Just then, Misan came from the kitchen, placing her red hands over the threshold and said, "A guest has arrived." When the master asked, "Who has come?" Misan replied, glancing sideways at Ms. Yukikawa's crying face, "It is a student from school." The master went out to the guest room. I also quietly followed the master down the hallway for my study of humanity. To study humans, one must choose a time when there is some turmoil; otherwise, no results will come forth. Usually, most people are just ordinary, so there is nothing particularly engaging about observing or listening to them. However, when the time comes, this ordinariness suddenly rises through a mysterious and spiritual effect, revealing strange, odd, and peculiar things. Ms. Yukikawa's tears are precisely one of those phenomena. Although I did not think much of Ms. Yukikawa, who possesses such an unfathomable and mysterious heart, when she was talking with my wife, as soon as the master returned and threw down the oil container, she unreservedly displayed her clever, exquisite, strange, and spiritual nature hidden deep within. And this beautiful quality is common among women of the world. It is just unfortunate that it does not easily manifest. No, it is continuously present, but it does not appear prominently and clearly. Fortunately, there was a peculiar person like the master who wanted to stroke my fur in the opposite direction, which allowed me to witness such a performance. If I follow the master, the actors on stage will surely move, no matter where they go, from our perspective as cats. Having such an interesting man as my master allows me to gain many experiences within my short cat life. I am grateful for that. Now, I wonder what kind of guest has come this time.

His age is around seventeen or eighteen, and like Yukie, he is in the school as a student. His head is large and closely cropped, with a nose like a dumpling in the middle of his face. He was sitting quietly in the corner of the tatami room, and although he had no particularly noticeable features, the size of his head stood out. Even with a blue monk's cut, its size draws attention. According to the master's thoughts, despite having such a face, he is someone who cannot study very well, but when seen in person, he appears dignified like Napoleon.

He dressed like a typical student, wearing a short-sleeved kimono made of Satsuma kasuri or Kurume kasuri, or a lined kimono of Iyo kasuri, and it seemed he was not wearing a juban or collar underneath. It is said that bare feet and a bare kimono show spirit, but his appearance gives a rather shabby impression. In particular, the three thumbprints left on the tatami are indeed due to his bare feet. He sits properly on the fourth footprint, shrinking himself uncomfortably. While it is not particularly concerning that someone who should be respectful is quietly waiting, the sight of him with his chestnut-like head appearing embarrassed felt somewhat disharmonious.

Those who boast about not greeting the teacher even when they meet him, surely find it painful to sit like everyone else for even thirty minutes. In such a context, he behaves almost like a humble gentleman or a person of great virtue, which appears quite amusing to those around him. It is comical to see how he, who is noisy in the classroom and on the playground, possesses the ability to restrain himself in this way.

When each person faces off against another, no matter how foolish the master may be, they will feel some weight towards the students. The master must surely feel proud. By gathering the small students, they become a group that cannot be underestimated and may initiate movements for exclusion or strikes. This phenomenon is much like a coward drinking alcohol and becoming bold. It is not unreasonable to think that the act of relying on the crowd and causing a commotion is a result of losing one's sanity due to the influence of others. Otherwise, even if he is being pressed against the sliding door looking so intimidated, he cannot despise a master who bears the title of teacher, no matter how old he may be. There is no way to look down on him.

The master pushed the cushion forward and said, "Now, please sit," but Mr. Mariguri stubbornly replied, "Oh," and did not move. Behind him, the cushion with its worn-out brocade did not say "Please take a seat" and was waiting, while his large head was sitting there, creating a strange sight. The cushion is meant for sitting, and it was not brought in by his wife just to be stared at. If he does not sit on the cushion, it would tarnish its honor, and the master who suggested it would also lose face a little. Mr. Mariguri, who is ignoring the cushion to the point of crushing the master's face, does not actually dislike the cushion itself. To be honest, he has only formally sat on one during his grandfather's memorial service, which is a rare occurrence since he was born. His legs have been going numb for a while now, and his toes are pleading for relief, yet he still does not try to sit on the cushion. Even when the master says, "Now, please sit," he does not move. What a troublesome Mariguri monk. If he is going to be this reserved, he should be more reserved when more people gather; he should be more reserved at school or at the boarding house. He does not hesitate when it is necessary, and on the contrary, he causes a great deal of trouble, making him a rather troublesome Mariguri monk.

At that moment, the sliding door behind opened quietly, and Yukie-san respectfully offered a bowl of tea to the monk. Normally, one would tease, "Look, the Savage Tea has been served," but feeling overwhelmed even in front of just one master, and with a young woman presenting the tea bowl with the Ogasawara-style technique she learned at school, the monk showed great signs of distress. When Yukie-san closed the sliding door, she smiled slyly from behind. Even though she was of the same age, she had quite a bit of courage. Especially after the drop of crimson tears she shed earlier, this smile stood out even more.

After Yukie-san pulled him in, both parties remained silent for a while, but realizing that this was like doing penance, the master finally opened his mouth.

“Did you say something?”

“Koi…”

“Koi? Koi something, right? What’s your name?”

“Koi Buemon.”

“Koi Buemon—indeed, that’s quite a long name. It’s not your current name, it’s an old name. You were in the fourth grade, right?”

“No.”

“Third grade then?”

“No, I’m in the second grade.”

“Class A, huh?”

“Class B.”

The master, while gazing at the student with the large head in front of him, let out a voice of admiration. “If it’s Class B, you’re under my supervision. I see.” In fact, this big-headed student had caught the master’s eye since the beginning of the school year, and he had never forgotten him. Rather, he was such an impressive presence that he sometimes appeared in the master’s dreams. However, the easygoing master couldn’t connect this head with the old-fashioned name, and as a result, he couldn’t recall that he was a student from Class B in the second grade. That’s why, upon hearing that the head he had been so impressed with to the point of dreaming about was actually a student under his supervision, he couldn’t help but applaud inwardly.

However, the master had no idea why this student with a large head had come, despite having an old name. Originally, the master was not well-liked, so the school students rarely approached him, whether it was New Year's or the end of the year. The only one who did was Takeemon-kun, but since the reason for his visit was unclear, the master was perplexed. There was no reason for someone so uninteresting to come to visit, and if it were a resignation recommendation, he should be more forthright about it. It was hard to believe that Takeemon-kun had come to discuss personal matters. In any case, the master could not understand.

Watching Takeemon-kun, it seems even he may not know why he came this far. With no other option, the master finally asked openly, "Did you come to play?"

"No, that's not it," Takeemon-kun replied.

"Then, is it something you need to do?"

"Yes."

"Is it about school?"

"Yes, I thought we could talk a little..."

"Hmm. What is it? Go ahead and speak," said the master, but Takeemon-kun remained silent, looking down. Originally, Takeemon-kun was quite talkative for a second-year middle school student; despite his large head, his intellect had not developed much, but he stood out among the B class when it came to speaking. In fact, it was this very Takeemon-kun who had troubled the master by asking him to teach the Japanese translation of Columbus the other day. The loquacious boy was now fidgeting like a stuttering princess, which surely indicated some special reason. It was hard to believe it was just simple hesitation. The master felt a bit suspicious as well.

"If you have something to say, you should say it quickly,"

"It's a bit difficult to talk about..."

“Is it hard to talk?” the master looked at Takeuemon-kun's face, but he was still looking down, so he couldn't make any judgment. With no other choice, he changed his tone slightly and added gently, “It's fine. You can talk about anything. No one else is listening. I won't tell anyone either.”

“Is it okay if I talk?” Takeuemon-kun was still hesitating.

“It's fine,” the master decided on his own.

“Well then, I will talk,” Takeuemon-kun began, lifting his head like a chestnut and glancing at the master. His eyes were like triangles. The master puffed out his cheeks and turned slightly to the side while blowing out the morning smoke.

“Actually, um... it's become a problem...”

“What is it?”

“What do you mean, it's quite a troublesome thing, that's why I came.”

“So, what is the trouble?”

“I didn't intend to do such a thing, but Hamada kept insisting...”

“Is Hamada Heisuke?”

“Yes.”

“Did you borrow rent from Hamada?”

“No, I didn't borrow anything like that.”

“Then, what did you borrow?”

“I borrowed a name.”

“What did Hamada do with your name?”

“He sent a love letter.”

“What did he send?”

“So, I said to discard the name and act as the sender.”

“I don't quite understand. Who did what, exactly?”

“He sent a love letter.”

“Sent a love letter? To whom?”

“That's why I said it's hard to talk about.”

“So, did you send a love letter to some woman?”

“No, it wasn't me.”

“Did Hamada send it?”

“It wasn't Hamada either.”

“Then, who sent it?”

“I don't know who it was.”

“This makes no sense at all. So, did no one send it?”

“Only the name was mine.”

“Only the name was yours? I don't understand what that means at all. Speak more clearly. Who is the person that received that love letter?”

“It's a woman named Kaneda who lives in the alley.”

“Is that the Kaneda who is a businessman?”

"Yes."

"So, what do you mean by just borrowing a name?"

"That girl over there is stylish and cheeky, so I sent her a love letter. -- Hamada said it needs a name, so when he told me to use yours, I thought mine was boring. He said that Furui Takeemon would be better -- and so, in the end, I ended up borrowing my name."

"So, do you know that girl over there? Are you in a relationship?"

"There's no relationship or anything. I've never even seen her face."

"That's reckless. To send a love letter to someone whose face you don't even know, what kind of reasoning is that?"

"It's just that everyone says she's cheeky and arrogant, so I thought I'd tease her."

"That's even more reckless. So you wrote your name openly and sent it?"

"Yes, Hamada wrote the letter. I borrowed the name, and Endo went to her house at night and mailed it."

"So the three of you did it together?"

"Yes, but after thinking about it, I was really worried that if she showed up and I got expelled, it would be a big deal, so I couldn't sleep for a couple of days and felt kind of dazed."

"That's quite a foolish thing to do. So you wrote 'Furui Takeemon, second-year student at Bunmei Junior High School'?"