First Night

by Natsume Sōseki · 2026-03-31

I had a dream like this.

As I sat by the pillow with my arms crossed, the woman lying on her back quietly told me, "I'm going to die now." Her long hair was spread on the pillow, and her soft, melon-seed-shaped face rested within it. A faint, warm blush of blood showed beneath her pale cheeks, and her lips were red; she didn't look as if she were about to die. Yet, she quietly said, "I'm going to die now." At that moment, I, too, was certain that she would die.

"Is that so, are you going to die now?" I asked, peering down at her. She said, "Yes, I am going to die," and opened her eyes wide. Within her large, moist eyes, only a vast expanse of pure black spread. In the depths of those black pupils, I saw my own reflection vividly appear.

Gazing into those transparently deep black eyes, I wondered if she truly would die. So, I gently brought my mouth close to the pillow and asked again, "You're not going to die, are you? You'll be alright, won't you?" Then, with sleepy eyes, she replied in a quiet voice, "But I am going to die, so there's nothing to be done."

"Then, can you see my face?" I asked intently, and she smiled, saying, "Can I see it? Look, isn't it reflected right there?" I silently moved my face away from the pillow. With my arms crossed, I wondered if she truly would die.

After a while, she spoke again.

"When I die, please bury me. Dig a hole with a large pearl shell. And place a fragment of a star that falls from the sky as my tombstone. Then, please wait by the grave. For I will come to see you again."

I asked, "When will you come to see me?"

"The sun will rise. Then the sun will set. It will rise again, and then it will set again. —While the red sun falls from east to west, from east to west—can you wait, you?"

I nodded silently. She raised her quiet tone a notch,

“Please wait for a hundred years,” she said with a determined voice.

"Please wait by my grave for a hundred years. I will surely come to see you."

He replied that he would simply wait. Then, his own reflection, which had been vividly visible in her dark eyes, blurred and disintegrated. Just as a still water surface might ripple and distort a reflection, it seemed to flow away, and then her eyes snapped shut. Tears streamed down her cheeks from between her long eyelashes. —She was already dead.

After that, I went down to the garden and dug a hole with the pearl oyster. The pearl oyster was large, smooth, and had sharp edges. Each time I scooped up the soil, the moonlight shone on the back of the shell, sparkling. The smell of damp earth also wafted up. After a while, the hole was dug. I placed her inside and gently covered her with soft soil. Each time I covered her, the moonlight shone on the back of the pearl oyster.

Then, I picked up fallen fragments of stars and lightly placed them on top of the soil. The star fragments were round. I thought that their edges must have worn smooth from falling through the vast sky for a long time. As I picked them up and placed them on the soil, my chest and hands became slightly warm.

I sat on the moss. Thinking that I would be waiting like this for a hundred years from now, I crossed my arms and gazed at the round tombstone. In due course, just as she had said, the sun rose from the east. It was a large red sun. And then, just as she had said, it eventually set in the west. It fell straight down, still red. I counted one.

After a while, another crimson sun slowly rose. And then it silently set. I counted two again.

As I counted them one by one, I lost track of how many red suns I had seen. Red suns passed overhead, countless, no matter how much I counted. Yet, a hundred years had not come. Eventually, as I gazed at the moss-covered round stone, I began to wonder if I had been deceived by her.

Then, a green stem grew diagonally from beneath the stone towards me. It quickly lengthened, stopping just at my chest. Then, at the top of the slender, swaying stem, a single, elongated bud, with its head slightly tilted, gently opened its petals. A pure white lily emitted a fragrance so intense it pierced to the bone, right before my nose. A drop of dew fell from far above, and the flower swayed precariously under its own weight. I leaned forward and kissed the cold, dewy white petals. As I pulled my face away from the lily, I happened to look up at the distant sky, and a single morning star twinkled.

"A hundred years had already passed," I realized for the first time then.