1-3

by 太宰治

Dear Sir/Madam, Today, I must deliver some sad news. However, it's a strange kind of sadness, mixed with a certain longing. Take-san is getting married. Her future husband is Dr. Tajima, the director of the health retreat here. I heard about it from Maa-bō today.

Now, let me backtrack a little.

This morning, my mother came to the retreat with a lot of my clothes and other belongings. My mother comes twice a month to tidy up my things. She peered into my face and said,

"Are you getting homesick yet?" she teased. This is also a regular occurrence.

"Maybe," I deliberately lied. This, too, is a regular occurrence.

"So, you're going to see your mother off to Koumebashi today, aren't you?"

"Who is?"

"Well, who do you think?"

"Me? I can go outside? I've been given permission?"

My mother nodded and said,

"But if you don't want to, you don't have to force yourself."

"Of course, I want to. I can walk ten ri a day now."

"Maybe," my mother said, mimicking me.

For the first time in four months, I took off my pajamas, put on a kasuri kimono, and went to the entrance with my mother. The director was standing there quietly, with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Can he walk? How is he?" my mother said to herself with a laugh.

"Boys can stand and walk from one year old," the director said, cracking a joke without a smile, and added, "I'll send an assistant with him."

Maa-bō came scurrying out of the office, wearing a red haori with a camellia pattern over her white nurse's uniform, and gave my mother a flustered, clumsy bow. Maa-bō was my escort.

I put on my new komageta clogs and was the first to step outside. The clogs felt strangely heavy, and I stumbled.

"Whoa there, good walking," the farm manager cheered from behind me. In his tone, I felt a cold, strong will rather than affection. It was as if I had been scolded with "Don't be sloppy!" and I felt dejected. Without turning around, I walked five or six quick steps, and then the farm manager from behind me again,

"Slowly at first. Slowly at first," he said, this time in a harsh tone that was overtly scolding, but conversely, I felt a welcome affection in those words.

I walked slowly. My mother and Ma-bou followed behind me, whispering something to each other in low voices. When we emerged from the pine forest onto the asphalt prefectural road, I felt a slight dizziness and stopped.

"It's big. The road is big." The asphalt road was just gleaming dully under the soft autumn sunlight, but for a moment, it looked to me like a vast, boundless river.

"Is it too much?" my mother said with a laugh, "What do you think? Shall we ask you to see us off next time?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," I said, deliberately making the sound of my geta clatter loudly as I walked, and just as I said, "I'm used to it now," a truck sped past me with tremendous force, and I involuntarily cried out, "Whoa!"

"It's big. The truck is big," my mother immediately mimicked me and teased.

"It's not big, but it's strong. It has incredible horsepower. It was definitely about 100,000 horsepower."

"Could that have been an atomic truck?" my mother was also in high spirits this morning.

As I walked slowly, and the Kōmebashi bus stop drew near, I heard something truly unexpected. My mother and Ma-bō, after chatting about various things while walking,

"I heard the farm manager is getting married soon?"

"Yes, with that Takenaka-san, very soon."

"With Takenaka-san? The assistant?" My mother seemed surprised too, but I was a hundred times more surprised. I felt as if I had been knocked down by a 100,000-horsepower truck.

My mother quickly calmed down and said,

"Takenaka-san is a good person, isn't she? The director certainly has good taste." She smiled brightly and didn't ask any further probing questions, gently moving on to other topics.

I can't clearly recall how I parted ways with my mother at the bus stop. My vision was simply hazy, and my heart felt like it was thumping and leaping, a truly helpless feeling.

I confess. I am in love with Take-san. I have been in love with her from the very beginning. Maa-bo was never an issue. I tried everything to forget Take-san, deliberately approaching Maa-bo and trying to fall in love with him, but it was no use. In the letters I sent you, I only listed Maa-bo's good points and wrote many bad things about Take-san, but that was never meant to deceive you; I wanted to erase the feelings in my heart by doing so. Even the new man, when thinking of Take-san, felt his body grow heavy, his wings shrivel, and he felt like he would become a trivial man, like a pig's tail. Therefore, I felt it was a matter of the new man's honor to quickly sort out my feelings and become completely indifferent to Take-san. I encouraged myself, and I spoke ill of Take-san, calling her merely a good-natured person, a big sea bream, or a terrible shopper. Can you not understand my anguish, even a little? And if you had agreed with me and joined me in speaking ill of Take-san, I secretly hoped that I might truly come to dislike her and feel lighthearted. However, since you became infatuated with Take-san, I found myself in an even more desperate situation. So, this time I changed my strategy and deliberately praised Take-san, speaking of platonic affection and a new type of male-female friendship, trying to somehow keep you in check. That is the pitiful reality of what has transpired so far. Far from being platonic, I was very much in love. It was a truly pathetic state, one might even call it "a mind like a monkey, a heart like a horse."

When you said Take-san was "an incredible beauty," I desperately denied it. However, the truth is, I also thought Take-san was truly beautiful. I felt it the moment I first saw her, on the very day she first came to the dojo.

You, it is people like Take-san who are truly beautiful. Under that blue light in the washroom, in the mysterious atmosphere before dawn, Take-san, quietly wiping the floor, exuded a terrifying beauty. I don't mean to be a sore loser, but that moment was something only I could endure. If it had been anyone else, they surely would have committed some sin. It is often said that women are demons, but perhaps women can unconsciously and temporarily lose their humanity, becoming demonic beings.

Now, I confess. I was in love with Take-san. It doesn't matter if it's old or new.

After parting with my mother, I walked with trembling knees and became terribly thirsty. I murmured, "I wish I could rest somewhere for a bit," but my voice was surprisingly hoarse, as if someone far away was whispering.

"You must be tired. If you go a little further, there's a house where we sometimes stop to rest."

Guided by Maa-bou, I entered an old house. In the dim, wide dirt floor, broken bicycles and straw bags lay scattered, and in one corner, a crude table and a few chairs were placed. A large mirror hung on the wall near the table, glowing strangely and eerily white. Even though this house had stopped doing business, it seemed to still serve tea to familiar people, probably serving as a place for the dojo assistants to idle when they went out. Maa-bou calmly went to the back and brought a teapot of bancha and teacups. We sat opposite each other at the table under the mirror and drank lukewarm bancha together. I let out a deep sigh of relief, feeling a little better.

"Take-san is getting married, isn't she?" I managed to say in a light tone.

"Yes, she is." Maa-bou also seemed somehow lonely recently. She hunched her shoulders as if cold, looked straight at my face, and asked, "Didn't you know?"

"I didn't know." Suddenly, my eyes felt hot, and I looked down, embarrassed.

"I understand. Take-san was crying too."

"What are you talking about?" Ma-bo's somber tone felt unpleasant, and I started to get angry. "Don't say such irresponsible things."

"It's not irresponsible," Ma-bo said, also teary-eyed. "That's why I told you. I told you not to get along with Take-san."

"I'm not getting along with him. Don't talk as if you know everything. It's terribly unpleasant. It's a good thing that Take-san is getting married. Isn't it a celebration?"

"No, it's not. I know. You can't deceive me." Tears welled up in her big eyes, gathered on her eyelashes, and then began to trickle down her cheeks. "I know. I know."