Forty-eight to forty-nine

by Natsume Sōseki

When I calculated, it had already been two days since my wife spoke to K. During that time, K had shown no change in his demeanor towards me, so I was completely unaware. His calm attitude, even if only on the surface, was admirable. Comparing him to myself in my mind, he appeared far more dignified. The thought that "I may have won through strategy, but I lost as a human" swirled in my chest. At that moment, I thought K must be looking down on me, and I blushed alone. However, appearing before K now and being embarrassed was a great pain for my pride.

I was considering whether to proceed or stop, and I decided to wait until the next day on Saturday night. However, that night, K committed suicide. Even now, when I recall that scene, fear overwhelms me. It might be some kind of fate that I, who always sleeps facing east, happened to lay down facing west that night. I woke up from the cold wind blowing in from my bedside. Looking over, the sliding door that usually separates K's room from mine was opened just as much as the night before. However, unlike the previous night, K's dark figure was not there. As if under a spell, I propped myself up on my elbows and peeked into K's room. The lamp was dimly lit, and the floor was laid out, but the blanket was piled up at the end as if it had been tossed aside. And K himself was face down, turned away.

I called out, "Hey," but there was no response. I called again, "Hey, is something wrong?" but K's body did not move at all. I immediately got up and went to the threshold. From there, I looked around his room in the dim light of the lamp.

At that moment, the first impression I received was almost the same as when I suddenly heard a confession of love from K. The moment my eyes caught sight of his room, they lost the ability to move, like a glass prosthetic eye. I stood frozen in place. After it passed by me like a gale, I thought, "Ah, I've made a mistake." A dark light, which signified that it was too late to turn back, pierced through my future and illuminated my entire life in a terrifying way in an instant. And then, I began to tremble.

Even so, I ultimately could not forget myself. I glanced at the letter placed on the desk. It was addressed to me, as I had expected. I eagerly broke the seal, but there was nothing written inside that I had anticipated. I had imagined how painful the words inside would be. And I was filled with the fear of how much I would be despised if it came to the attention of his wife or daughter. After just a brief glance, I first thought I was relieved. (Of course, I was relieved only in terms of appearances, but in this case, that appearance seemed to me to be a very significant event.)

The content of the letter was concise and rather abstract. It only stated that the writer, being weak-willed and lacking hope for the future, was going to commit suicide. Additionally, there was a simple expression of gratitude for the care I had provided until now. There was also a request to take care of the arrangements after death as a favor. The phrase, "I am sorry for causing trouble to my wife, so please convey my apologies," was included. There was a request to inform my hometown through me. While everything necessary was written in brief, the name of the young lady was nowhere to be found. After reading it to the end, I immediately realized that K had deliberately avoided mentioning it. However, what struck me most painfully was the added remark written in leftover ink at the end, which meant, "I should have died sooner; why have I lived until now?"

I rolled up the letter with trembling hands and placed it back into the envelope. I deliberately put it back on the desk in plain sight for everyone to see. Then I turned around and saw the blood flowing out onto the fusuma for the first time.

I suddenly lifted K's head slightly with both hands. I wanted to see his dead face at a glance. However, when I peered up from below at his face, which was bowed down, I immediately let go of my hands. It wasn't just trembling. His head felt extremely heavy. I looked at his cold ear that I touched from above and his thick hair, which was cut short as usual. I did not feel like crying at all. I was just terrified. That terror was not merely the monotonous fear that arises from the sensual stimulation of the scene before my eyes. I was deeply aware of the dreadful fate suggested by this suddenly cold friend.

I returned to my room without any discernment. Then I began to walk around in circles within the eight-tatami room. My head was commanding me to keep moving like that for the time being, even if it was meaningless. I thought I had to do something, but at the same time, I felt there was nothing I could do. I had to keep circling the room. Like a bear trapped in a cage.

Sometimes I felt like going deeper in to wake my wife. However, the thought of showing her this terrible state immediately stopped me. My strong will to not startle my daughter kept me restrained. I began to walk around in circles again.

In the meantime, I turned on the gas lamp in my room. Then I checked the clock from time to time. There was nothing more frustratingly slow than that clock at that moment. I wasn't exactly sure what time I had woken up, but it was clear that dawn was approaching. While I walked in circles, longing for that dawn, I was tormented by the thought that the eternally dark night might continue.

We had a habit of waking up before seven o'clock. Since school often started at eight, we had to do so to make it in time for class. The maid was supposed to wake up around six for that reason. However, on that day, when I went to wake the maid, it was still before six. Then, my wife told me, "Today is Sunday." She had woken up from my footsteps.

I asked my wife, if she was awake, to come to my room for a bit. She threw on a coat over her nightgown and followed me. Once we entered the room, I immediately set up the sliding door that had been open. Then I whispered to her, "Please don't be surprised." My wife turned pale.

"Madam, K has committed suicide," I said again. The lady stood there, staring at my face in silence. At that moment, I suddenly knelt down in front of her and bowed my head. "I am sorry. It was my fault. I am sorry for both you and your daughter," I apologized. I had no intention of saying such words until I faced the lady. However, when I saw her face, I unconsciously said it.

Unable to apologize to K, I think I had no choice but to apologize to the lady and her daughter like this. In other words, my true feelings transcended my usual self and I stumbled into words of confession. It was fortunate for me that the lady did not interpret my words in such a deep way. With a pale face, she said comfortingly, "If it was an unforeseen event, there is nothing that can be done." However, her face was deeply marked with surprise and fear, and her muscles were stiff and tense.