Thirty-two to thirty-three

by Natsume Sōseki

Not only that, but I also noticed that the young lady's attitude has changed a bit compared to before. After returning from our trip after a long time, we needed some assistance from the women until we settled down as usual. However, aside from the wife who was taking care of us, it seemed that the young lady was prioritizing me over K, putting him on the back burner. If that had been done overtly, I might have felt a little inconvenienced. In some cases, I might have even felt uncomfortable, but the young lady's behavior was very clever in that regard, so I was pleased. In other words, the young lady directed her innate kindness extra towards me in a way that only I could understand. Therefore, K did not particularly show any unpleasant expression and was at ease. I secretly played a song for him in my heart.

Eventually, summer passed, and from around the middle of September, we had to attend school classes again. K and I began to arrive late or leave early due to our respective schedules. There were about three times a week when I returned later than K, but whenever I came back, the young lady's shadow was no longer visible in K's room. K looked at me and repeated, "Did you just get back?" as if it were a set phrase. My nod was almost mechanical, simple, and meaningless.

I think it was around mid-October. As a result of oversleeping, I once hurried to school in my Japanese clothes. I was short on time to fix my kimono, so I dashed out wearing my zori. According to the schedule that day, I was supposed to return home before K. When I came back, I opened the entrance lattice with that intention. Then, I suddenly heard K's voice, which I thought was absent. At the same time, the sound of the young lady's laughter echoed in my ears. Since I wasn't wearing the usual troublesome shoes, I quickly went up the entrance and opened the sliding door. I saw K sitting in front of the desk, but the young lady was no longer there. I only caught a glimpse of her figure as she hurriedly left K's room. I asked K why he had come home early. K replied that he was resting because he felt unwell. As I sat in my room, the young lady soon brought me tea. At that moment, it was the first time the young lady greeted me with "Welcome home." Although I wasn't the type to ask, laughing, "Why did you run away earlier?" it was something that weighed on my mind. The young lady quickly stood up and went through the engawa to the other side. However, she stopped in front of K's room and exchanged a few words inside and outside. It seemed to be a continuation of the earlier conversation, but I couldn't understand it at all since I didn't know what the previous discussion was about.

Eventually, the young lady's attitude gradually became calm. Even when K and I were together at home, she often came to the edge of K's room and called his name. Then she would enter and relax there. Of course, since there were times when she brought the mail or left laundry, such interactions should be considered natural for two people living in the same house, but for me, there was a strong desire to monopolize the young lady, so it felt more than just natural. At one point, it even seemed that the young lady deliberately avoided coming to my room and only went towards K. You might ask why I didn't have K leave the house then. However, if I did that, it would eliminate the intention behind my forceful inclusion of K. I couldn't do that.

It was a cold, rainy day in November. I returned home, wetting my coat, as I climbed the narrow slope through the Konnyaku Enma as usual. K's room was empty, but a new fire was burning warmly in the hibachi. I wanted to quickly warm my cold hands over the red coals, so I hurriedly opened the partition to my room. However, all that remained in my hibachi was cold ash, and even the embers had gone out. I suddenly felt unpleasant.

At that moment, it was the lady of the house who came out after hearing my footsteps. She silently looked at me standing in the middle of the room and kindly helped me take off my coat and put on a Japanese garment. Then, when I said I was cold, she immediately brought K's hibachi from the next room. When I asked if K had already gone home, she replied that he had come back and then left again. Since K was also scheduled to return later than me that day, I wondered what had happened. The lady said that he probably had some business to attend to.

I sat there for a while, reading a book. The house was silent, and I could hear no voices; I felt the early winter cold and loneliness gradually seep into my body. I involuntarily closed the book and stood up. Suddenly, I felt the urge to go to a lively place. The rain seemed to have finally stopped, but the sky still looked cold and heavy like lead. So, for caution, I slung my snake-eye umbrella over my shoulder and walked down the slope to the east along the earthen wall behind the artillery factory.

At that time, the road had not yet been renovated, so the slope was much steeper than it is now. The road was narrow and not straight. Moreover, when I descended into that valley, the south side was blocked by tall buildings, the drainage was poor, and the road was muddy. In particular, it was terrible when crossing the narrow stone bridge to get to Yanagimachi Street. Whether in geta or rubber boots, one could not walk carelessly. Everyone had to carefully follow the narrow path that had been naturally cleared of mud. It was only about one or two shaku wide, as if one were stepping across a strip laid in the middle of the road. Passersby all lined up and cautiously made their way through.

On that narrow path, I unexpectedly ran into K. I had been so focused on my feet that I had not noticed his presence until I faced him. By chance, my way was blocked, and when I instinctively looked up, I recognized K for the first time. I asked him where he had gone, but K simply replied, "Just over there." His tone was as cold as usual.

K and I switched places on a narrow path. At that moment, I noticed a young woman standing right behind K. With my poor eyesight, I hadn't realized it until then, but after passing K, when I looked at the woman's face, I was surprised to find that it was the daughter of the house. I was astonished. The young lady had a slightly flushed face and greeted me. The hairstyle of that era was different from now; her bangs were not out, and her hair was wound around the center of her head like a snake. I was absentmindedly looking at the young lady's hairstyle, but in the next moment, I realized that one of us had to yield on the path. I boldly stepped one foot into the mud, cleared a relatively easy spot, and let the young lady pass.

When I emerged onto Yanagimachi Street, I became unsure of where to go. I felt as if nowhere would be interesting, and despite the mud splashing up, I continued to walk mindlessly. Soon after, I returned home.