Thirty to thirty-one

by Natsume Sōseki

When walking, the heat and fatigue naturally cause one's physical condition to deteriorate. That said, it is not the same as being ill. It feels as if one's soul has suddenly moved into another body. While I was talking to K as usual, there was something about my state of mind that felt different from usual. My fondness and resentment towards him took on a special quality of the journey, becoming almost temporary. Perhaps we entered a new relationship due to the heat, the tide's influence, and the act of walking. At that moment, we felt like traveling merchants who had become companions. No matter how much we talked, unlike usual, we did not touch on difficult topics that required much thought.

We managed to reach Choshi in this manner, but there was one unforgettable event along the way. Before leaving Bōshū, we visited Tai no Ura in a place called Kominato. It was many years ago, and I wasn't particularly interested, so I don't remember it clearly, but I heard it was the village where Nichiren was born. There is a legend that on the day Nichiren was born, two sea bream were washed ashore, and since then, the village's fishermen have refrained from catching sea bream, so there are many sea bream in the bay. We rented a small boat to go see those sea bream.

At that time, I was just staring at the waves. And I was watching the slightly purplish color of the sea bream moving in the waves, fascinated by it as one of the interesting phenomena. However, K seemed to be less interested in it than I was. He was apparently imagining Nichiren in his mind rather than the sea bream. Right there was a temple called Birth Temple. It must have been named Birth Temple because it was the village where Nichiren was born. It was a magnificent temple complex. K suggested that we go to that temple and meet the head priest. To be honest, we were dressed quite strangely. In particular, K had bought a bamboo hat because the wind had blown his hat into the sea. Both of us were wearing dirty kimonos and smelled of sweat. I said we should skip meeting the priest, but K was stubborn and wouldn’t listen. He said, "If you don't want to, you can just wait outside." Reluctantly, I entered the entrance with him, but in my heart, I thought we would surely be turned away. However, surprisingly, the priest was polite and immediately met with us in a spacious and splendid tatami room. At that time, I had quite different thoughts from K, so I wasn't inclined to listen much to the conversation between the priest and K, but K seemed to be persistently asking about Nichiren. I remember when the priest said that Nichiren was so skilled in cursive writing that he was called "Grass Nichiren," K made a face as if to say, "What a trivial matter." K probably wanted to know a deeper meaning of Nichiren than that. I doubt whether the priest satisfied K on that point, but once we left the temple grounds, he began to talk to me incessantly about Nichiren. I was hot and tired, so I was not in the mood for that.It became bothersome, and eventually, I fell completely silent.

I believe it was the night after that, when the two of them arrived at the inn, had a meal, and suddenly began discussing a difficult issue before going to bed. K was not pleased that I had not taken seriously what Nichiren had talked about yesterday when he approached me. He said, "Those who lack a spirit of improvement are fools," treating me as if I were a shallow being. However, since I was preoccupied with thoughts of the young lady in my heart, I could not simply laugh off his words that bordered on contempt. I began to defend my position.

“At that time, I repeatedly used the phrase 'human-like.' K seemed to think that I was hiding my weaknesses within that phrase. Indeed, upon reflection, he might be right. However, by the time I started using that phrase, I already had a rebellious feeling, so I had no room for reflection. I further asserted my theory. Then K asked me where I was not being human-like. I told him, 'You are human-like. Or perhaps you are too human-like. However, you are saying things that are not human-like just with your words, and you are trying to behave in a way that is not human-like.'”

When I said this, he simply replied that it might seem that way to others because he lacked self-cultivation, and he did not try to refute me at all. Rather than feeling a sense of competition, I felt sorry for him. I quickly ended the discussion. His mood gradually sank as well. He said regretfully that if I had known the old people he knew, he wouldn't have made such an attack. The old people K referred to were, of course, not heroes or great men, but those who subjected their bodies for the sake of the spirit or tormented themselves for the sake of the path, the so-called ascetics. K clearly stated that it was truly unfortunate that I did not understand how much he was suffering for that.

K and I fell asleep just like that. And from the next day, we returned to our normal life as peddlers, starting to walk while sweating. However, along the way, I recalled the events of last night many times. At that moment, I had been given the best opportunity, yet I burned with regret over why I had pretended not to know and let it pass by.

I often reflected on how I should have conveyed my feelings to K in more direct and simple words instead of using the abstract term "human-like." To be honest, the reason I came up with such words was rooted in my feelings for the young lady. Rather than conveying organized words theoretically to K, it would have certainly brought me better results to simply show my honest feelings right in front of him. The reason I couldn't do that was that I felt a kind of inertia in the relationship we had built through academia. I lacked the courage to break through that wall decisively. Even if I was told I was being too pretentious or that my vanity got in the way, it amounts to the same thing. However, the meaning of "pretentious" and "vanity" that I refer to is slightly different from the general understanding. If that resonates with you, I am satisfied.

We returned to Tokyo completely blackened. When we got back, my mood had changed again. The small reasoning like "human-like" or "not human-like" had almost disappeared from my mind. K also showed no signs of being religious at all. Perhaps, the issues concerning spirit and body no longer existed in his heart. We looked around the busy streets of Tokyo with faces that seemed almost like a different race. Then we went to Ryogoku and ate shamo chicken in the heat. K suggested that we walk back to Koishikawa with that momentum. Physically, I was stronger than K, so I readily agreed.

When we arrived home, my wife was surprised to see the two of us. Not only had we gotten darker, but we had also lost quite a bit of weight while walking around. Still, my wife praised us, saying, "You both look sturdy now." Our daughter found my wife's contradiction amusing and burst into laughter. Even I, who had been a bit irritated before the trip, felt cheerful at that moment. Perhaps it was because of the situation or because it had been a while since I heard such words.