Sixteen to eighteen

by Natsume Sōseki

It was still just getting dark when I visited, but the meticulous teacher had already left the house. "He just went out a little while ago because he didn't want to be late," said his wife, and she guided me to the teacher's study.

In the study, there was a Western-style desk and chair, surrounded by beautiful spines of books. The light from the electric lamp illuminated the room through the glass. His wife made me sit on a zabuton laid in front of the hibachi and said, "Please read a book for a while," before leaving. I felt uncomfortable, as if I were a guest waiting for the master to return. While I nervously smoked a cigarette, I could hear his wife talking to a maid in the living room. The study was located at the corner where the veranda of the living room turned, maintaining a bit of distance from the main room's tranquility. After a while, his wife's voice stopped, and the room fell silent. I was on edge, as if waiting for a thief.

About thirty minutes later, his wife peeked into the study again. "Oh," she said, looking at me with mild surprise. Then she curiously observed me sitting modestly.

"Isn't it cramped?"

"No, it's not cramped."

"But isn't it boring?"

"No. I'm tense thinking a thief might come, so it's not boring."

His wife stood there laughing, still holding a teacup.

"It's not a good spot for keeping watch since it's a corner," I said,

"Well then, excuse me, but please come out more to the center. I thought you might be bored, so I made some tea and brought it, but if it's okay in the living room, I can serve it there."

I followed his wife out of the study. In the living room, there was a beautiful long hibachi, and a kettle was boiling water. I had tea and sweets there, but his wife said it was close to bedtime and didn't touch the teacup.

"Does the teacher still occasionally attend gatherings like this?"

"No, I rarely go out. Recently, it seems I've become more and more averse to seeing people's faces."

Since the wife did not seem particularly troubled, I inadvertently became bold.

"So, is the wife the only exception?"

"No, I am also one of those who are disliked."

"That's a lie," I said. "The wife herself knows it's a lie while saying so."

"Why?"

"In my view, the wife dislikes the world because she has fallen in love."

"As someone who studies, you are quite skilled at manipulating empty logic."

"Both can be said, but in this case, I am correct."

"I dislike arguments. It seems men only like to argue. I wonder how they can keep offering empty cups without getting bored."

The wife's words stung a bit, but they were not harsh. She did not seem modern enough to feel pride in making her intellect recognized by others. Rather, she appeared to value a deeper part of her heart.

I still had things I wanted to say, but I thought it would be troublesome to be seen as a man who instigates arguments, so I held back. The wife looked at me while peering into the bottom of her empty teacup and asked, "Shall I bring you another cup?" I immediately handed the teacup to her.

"How many? One? Two?"

The wife picked up a sugar cube and looked at my face while asking how many sugars to put in the cup. Her attitude was not one of flattery towards me, but was filled with charm that seemed to try to negate her earlier strong words.

I silently drank the tea. Even after finishing, I remained silent.

"You've gone very quiet," the wife said.

"If I say something, I might get scolded for instigating another argument," I replied.

"No way," the wife said again.

The two of them started the conversation again, prompted by that story. And they returned to the topic of the teacher, which they both had a common interest in.

“Excuse me, can I talk a little more about what I was saying earlier? It might sound like empty reasoning to you, but I’m not saying it in a superficial way.”

“Well, go ahead.”

“If you suddenly disappeared, would the teacher be able to live as he does now?”

“I don’t know, you. You can only ask the teacher that. It’s not a problem you should bring to me.”

“Excuse me, I’m serious. So you shouldn’t run away. You have to answer honestly.”

“I’m being honest. Even if I say it honestly, I don’t know.”

“Then, how much do you love the teacher? This is a question that is better asked of you than the teacher, so I will ask you.”

“There’s no need to ask something like that so bluntly.”

“There’s nothing wrong with asking seriously. Are you saying it’s obvious?”

“Well, yes.”

“If someone as loyal to the teacher as you suddenly disappeared, what would happen to the teacher? The teacher, who seems like he wouldn’t find anything interesting no matter which way he looks, what would happen later if you suddenly disappeared? Not from the teacher’s perspective, but from yours. From your perspective, would the teacher be happy or unhappy?”

"I understand that from my perspective. (The teacher may not think so.) If the teacher leaves me, he will only become unhappy. Or he might not be able to live. Saying that may sound like self-indulgence, but I believe that I am making the teacher as happy as possible as a human being. I am convinced that there is no one who can make the teacher as happy as I can. That is why I can remain calm like this."

"I think that belief should reflect well in the teacher's heart."

"That is a separate issue."

"Are you saying that you are still disliked by the teacher?"

"I don't think I am disliked. There is no reason to dislike me. However, the teacher probably dislikes society. Recently, he may have even started to dislike humanity itself. Therefore, as one of those humans, it is not surprising that I cannot be liked."

I finally understood the meaning of the wife's words within me.

While I was impressed by her understanding, the wife's attitude, which was not typical of an old-fashioned Japanese woman, also stimulated my heart in a way. She hardly used the new words that had begun to trend at that time.

I was an ignorant young man who had no deep experience with women. As a man, I had always dreamed of women as objects of admiration due to my instincts towards the opposite sex. However, that was merely a vague dream, akin to gazing at nostalgic spring clouds. Therefore, when I actually encountered women, my emotions would sometimes change suddenly. Instead of being attracted to the woman in front of me, I would sometimes feel a strange repulsion. However, I did not feel such feelings towards the wife at all. Normally, I hardly thought of the imbalance of ideas that lay between men and women. I simply viewed the wife as a sincere critic and sympathizer of the teacher.

“Madam, when I asked you the other day why the teacher doesn't engage more with the public, you said, ‘He wasn't like that originally.’”

“Yes, I said that. In fact, he wasn't like that.”

“What kind of person was he?”

“He was a reliable person, just as you wish and just as I wish.”

“So why did he suddenly change?”

“It wasn't sudden; it gradually became like that.”

“You must have been with the teacher all that time, right?”

“Of course I was. We are a couple.”

“Then you should understand the reasons for the teacher's change.”

“That's what troubles me. When you say that, it truly hurts. No matter how I think about it, I can't come up with an answer. I can't count how many times I've asked him to please open up.”

“What does the teacher say?”

“He says nothing, that there's nothing to worry about, that he has become this way, and he doesn't take me seriously.”

I remained silent. The lady also paused her words. The maid in the servant's room made no sound. I felt as if I had completely forgotten about the thief.

“Don't you think I have some responsibility?” the lady suddenly asked.

“No,” I replied.

“Please speak without hiding anything. To be thought of that way is more painful than being cut,” the lady continued. “Even so, I intend to do as much as I can for the teacher.”

“That's something the teacher acknowledges, so it's fine. Please rest assured, I will guarantee it.”

The lady raked the ashes in the hibachi and poured water from the water jug into the kettle. The kettle soon became quiet.

"I finally couldn't hold back any longer and asked the teacher. If I have any faults, please tell me without hesitation. I will correct any shortcomings that can be improved. Then the teacher said, 'You have no faults; the faults are only on my side.' When I heard that, I became unbearably sad. Tears started to flow, and I wanted to hear even more about my own shortcomings."

The wife's eyes were filled with tears.