It was four or five years ago, when he was still a student, that Daisuke had become acquainted with Michiyo. In those days, because of the Nagai family’s standing, Daisuke was familiar with a number of the names and faces of the young women who had risen to the surface of society. But Michiyo was not among them. One would have said that in appearance she was more sober, and in spirit, more subdued than they were. In those days, Daisuke had a schoolfriend named Suganuma, who was on friendly terms with both Daisuke and Hiraoka. Michiyo was his younger sister.
This Suganuma was from a neighboring prefecture, and in the spring of his second year at the university, he brought his sister out from the country to further her education. He immediately left his old boarding house, and the two set up housekeeping. At the time, his sister had just graduated from a girls’ higher school. The story was that she was eighteen or thereabouts. She wore fine, bright collars and shoulder tucks. Soon, she began to commute to a girls’ school.
Suganuma’s house was in Shimizuchō in Yanaka. There was no garden, but instead, from the verandah, there was a view of the old cedars of Ueno forest. These had a singularly mysterious color, like rusted iron. One of them was half-dead and all but bare at the top; toward evening, many crows came to perch and cry. Next door, there lived a young artist. They were on a narrow side street where even rickshas seldom passed. It was an extremely quiet dwelling.
Daisuke went to visit often. The first time he met Michiyo, she retreated with just a bow. Daisuke appraised the view of Ueno forest and went home. The second and even the third times he went, all Michiyo did was to serve the tea. But it was a small house, and she could only have been in the next room. As he talked with Suganuma, Daisuke could not help being conscious that Michiyo was in the next room, listening to what he said.
Daisuke’s memory had kept no record of the occasion that had led him to start talking to Michiyo. It must have been that trifling and ordinary an incident. For Daisuke, sated with poems and novels, this had made it all the more interesting. But once they began to talk, the two became friendly, just as in all the poems and novels.
Like Daisuke, Hiraoka had often gone to visit at Suganuma’s. There were occasions when the two had set out together. And just about the same time as Daisuke, Hiraoka became acquainted with Michiyo. At times, Michiyo had tagged along when her brother and the two young men went for a walk to the edge of the pond.
The four passed slightly less than two years in this manner. In the spring of the year Suganuma was to graduate, his mother came out from the country and spent a few nights in Shimizuchō. It was the mother’s custom to come to Tokyo once or twice a year and spend five or six days with her children; this time, however, she began running a fever the day before her departure and could not move. A week later, her case was diagnosed as typhus, and she was immediately taken to the university hospital. Michiyo moved in to take care of her. The patient’s progress was satisfactory at first, but midway she suffered a setback and, in the end, died. That was not all. Michiyo’s brother, who had visited his mother, also contracted typhus and died not long after. Only their father was left at home in the country.
Since he came out both when the mother died and when Suganuma died to make the necessary arrangements, the father became acquainted with the two young men who had been deeply involved with the deceased. When the time came for him to take Michiyo home, he took his daughter and called at their respective boarding houses to thank them and bid them farewell.
That fall, Hiraoka married Michiyo. It was Daisuke who had arranged everything between them. Officially, a senior alumnus from the home province was asked to fill the role of go-between at the ceremony, but it was Daisuke who had actually busied himself and made the necessary arrangements for Michiyo.
Shortly after the wedding, the couple left Tokyo. Unexpected circumstances at home forced Michiyo’s father to leave, and he ended up going to Hokkaido. Michiyo had been placed in a somewhat forlorn situation. Daisuke wanted somehow to make it possible for her to settle down in Tokyo. He thought that perhaps he should try consulting with his sister-in-law again to devise some means of raising the money. He also thought of seeing Michiyo and asking her for more intimate details of the situation.
But even if he went over to Hiraoka’s, Michiyo was not a woman to rashly wash her dirty linen before others; besides, even if he were able to obtain the details behind their present indebtedness, it would still be no easy matter to probe the depths of the couple’s relationship— and that, Daisuke was forced to admit when he looked into his heart, was precisely the true focus of his interest. To be honest, therefore, he had already bypassed the need to learn why they wanted the money. It made no difference whether he knew such superficial details or not; he wanted to lend Michiyo the money and make her content. But he had not the slightest intention of raising the sum in order to win her favor. Daisuke could no longer afford to be so calculating with Michiyo.
Moreover, it would be difficult to chance upon a time when Hiraoka was absent and he could get a full account of their circumstances, even those particulars relating only to finances. It went without saying that as long as Hiraoka was at home, there could be no intimate discussion. Even if there were, Daisuke would of course not be able to accept all the details at face value. Hiraoka, prompted by various worldly motives, maintained a display of pride before Daisuke. Even where such display was unnecessary, he for some reason guarded his silence.
Daisuke decided that in any case, he would consult with his sister-in-law first. Yet he felt himself that the prospects were extremely dim. He had time and again harassed her with requests for trifling sums, but never before had he confronted her so brashly. But Umeko had some funds at her disposal, so it was not absolutely certain that nothing would come of the request. If that did not work, he might even go to a money lender, but he was not yet inclined to go that far. If, however, Hiraoka was sooner or later going to press him into a formal joint liability and he was to find himself unable to refuse, then it was far more pleasant to take the initiative himself and please Michiyo directly. This decision, reached without the help of reason, had already settled somewhere in Diasuke’s head.
There was a warm, humid wind blowing on the day he chose to visit his sister-in-law. Sometime after four o’clock, as the cloudy weather hung lazily in the sky without any sign of clearing, Daisuke left his home and took the streetcar to his brother’s house. Just before the Aoyama Palace, his father and brother passed on the left, hurrying their special speed rickshas. Since they passed too quickly even to exchange nods, the two of course had not noticed him. Daisuke got off at the next stop.
As he entered the gate to his brother’s house, the sound of the piano came from the drawing room. Daisuke paused for an instant on the gravel, then immediately cut to the left and went around to the kitchen entrance. There, outside the grating, a large English dog named Hector lay asleep with a leather muzzle over his mouth. As soon as he heard Daisuke’s footsteps, Hector shook his longhaired ears and sharply lifted his spotted face. Then he moved his tail.
Daisuke looked into the houseboy’s room at the side of the entrance, said a few pleasantries from the threshold, and went straight to the Western room, where he opened the door to find his sister-in-law seated at the piano. At her side stood Nuiko, wearing a longsleeved kimono, her hair hanging to the shoulders. Every time he saw her hair, Daisuke recalled the sight of Nuiko on a swing. Her black hair, light pink ribbon, and yellow crepe sash had caught the wind all at once and looked as if they floated in the air. . . . The image was carved vividly in his mind.
Mother and daughter turned around at once. “Well.”
Nuiko came running over without a word. She grabbed his hand and dragged him forward. Daisuke found himself beside the piano.
“I wondered who the great master was.’’
Without a word, Umeko, her brows knitted, smiled and waved her hands to cut him sh
ort. “Dai-san, you play this part and show us.”
Daisuke silently took his sister-in-law’s place. With his eyes on the notes, he skillfully worked his fingers for a while, then said, “That’s about right, isn’t it?” and quickly left the seat.
For some thirty minutes, mother and daughter took turns at the instrument, reviewing the same passage. Finally, Umeko said, “Let’s stop here. Why don’t we go over there and eat. You come too, Uncle Daisuke,” and stood up. It was already growing dark in the room. Daisuke, who had been listening to the music, watching the white hands of his sister-in-law and niece, and, from time to time, gazing at the transom painting, had all but forgotten about Michiyo and the money he wanted to borrow. Looking back as he left the room, he noticed that only the areas where the ultramarine waves broke and blew white sprays were clearly visible in the dark. Above these billows Daisuke pictured golden cloud peaks flung everywhere. As for the skyline, he completed it skillfully by making the peaks appear, on close inspection, to be giant nude females with streaming hair and leaping bodies, forming a furious, frenzied band. Daisuke had ordered this design with the intention of having the clouds suggest the Valkyries. In his mind he had fused together these enormous clusters, distinguishable neither as cloud peaks nor as giant female forms, and he secretly delighted in them. But once the painting was actually executed and fitted into the wall, it had fallen far short of his imagination. By the time he left the room with Umeko, the Valkyries were barely visible. The ultramarine waves, of course, were not visible at all. Only the large clumps of white foam glimmered palely.
The lights had already been lit in the living room. There Daisuke took his dinner with Umeko and the two children. Daisuke had Seitarō bring him a cheroot from his brother’s room, and as he smoked, he made small talk. In time, the children, warned by their mother that they had to prepare their lessons for the next day, retired to their rooms, and Daisuke and Umeko were left face to face.
Daisuke thought it would be strange to launch directly into his request and so began his advance from various unrelated points. Where were his father and brother rushing off to in their rickshas? Seigo had treated him to lunch the other day. Why hadn’t Umeko gone to the garden party at Azabu? Father’s Chinese poetry was mostly empty talk. In the course of exchanging such questions and answers, Daisuke learned one new fact. It had to do precisely with what he had witnessed earlier. According to Umeko, his brother and father had been conspicuously busy during the past four or five days—so much so that they barely had time to sleep. What on earth was happening, Daisuke asked, his face composed as usual. His sister-in-law likewise responded in her normal manner, saying yes, she supposed something was going on, since neither his father nor his brother told her anything, she didn’t know, but anyway, Dai-san, about a bride for you, she began, when the houseboy came in.
They were going to be late again; if such-and-such parties called, tell them to come to the teahouse. The houseboy delivered this telephone message and left. Thinking it would be bothersome to have the conversation return to the marriage issue, Daisuke came straight out and said that as a matter of fact, he had come to ask a small favor.
Umeko listened to his story obediently. Daisuke took some ten minutes to recite everything. In conclusion he said, “So won’t you take a chance and lend me the money?”
Then Umeko, looking serious, said, “Yes, well, let me see. When do you plan to pay it back?” It was a completely unexpected question. Pinching his chin with his fingers, Daisuke silently studied his sister-in-law’s manner. Umeko, looking increasingly serious, said, “I’m not being sarcastic. You mustn’t get angry.”
Daisuke was of course not angry. He simply had not expected a question like this from his sister-in-law. If, at this point, he were to elaborate and say yes, he planned to return it, or no, he had actually counted on being given it, things would become much too absurd; therefore, he tamely submitted to Umeko’s offensive. Umeko felt as if she finally had this difficult younger brother in her grasp, and she found it easy to follow up with “Dai-san, you’ve always looked down on me, haven’t you? No, I’m not trying to be disagreeable. It’s the truth, it can’t be helped. Isn’t that right?’’
“I don’t know what to say when you interrogate me like this, so deadly serious.”
“It’s all right. You don’t have to cover up. I know perfectly well. Why don’t you come out and admit it honestly? Unless you do, I can’t go on with the rest.”
Daisuke sat grinning without a word.
“See? What did I say! But I take it for granted. It doesn’t bother me at all. No matter how I strut about, of course I’m no match for you. You and I are satisfied with our relationship as it’s always been, so I won’t complain. That’s that, but you also look down on your father, don’t you.”
Daisuke was taken by the sincerity of her manner. So he answered, “Yes, I do look down on him a little.”
At this, Umeko laughed out loud as if terribly delighted. Then she said, “You also look down on your brother.”
“My brother? I respect my brother tremendously.”
“Don’t lie. Go ahead and confess it all while you’re at it.” “Well, I don’t not look down on him in some ways.”
“There! What did I say? You look down on every member of the family.”
“I’m very sorry.”
“You needn’t bother with such apologies. As far as you’re concerned, I’m sure we all deserve to be looked down upon.”
“Why don’t we call it quits? You’re being awfully hard on me today.”
“No, I mean it, it really doesn’t matter. We aren’t going to fight over this or anything. But anyway, why should a great man like you have to borrow money from someone like me? Isn’t it funny? You’re probably angry, thinking that I’m trying to trip you up in your own words. But that’s not it at all. It just so happens that when you don’t have money, even a great man like you has to come and bow before a person like me.”
“That’s why I’ve been bowing all this time.” “You’re still not taking me seriously.”
“But this is my way of being serious.”
“Maybe it’s also your way of being great. But what will you do if no one will lend you the money and you can’t help your friends? No matter how great you are, it won’t do any good. You’re just the same as a ricksha driver as far as skills go.”
Daisuke had never expected to receive such pointed criticism from his sister-in-law. But in fact, ever since he had thought of trying to raise the money, he had been dimly aware of this weakness himself. “You’re right, I am no better than a ricksha driver. That’s why I’ve come to ask your help.”
“What shall we do with you! You’re too great. You find the money yourself. I wouldn’t mind considering it if you were a real ricksha driver, but I won’t lend to you. You’re a little too much, aren’t you? Every month you come around to your father and brother for your keep, and now, on top of it, you’ve taken on other people’s needs and offer to lend to them. Who would be willing to pay for that?”
Umeko’s point was most reasonable. Daisuke had overstepped the reasonable without noticing it. Looking back, he saw his sister and brother and father huddled together. He felt that he, too, would have to retrace his steps and stand with the rest of society. Before he left his own house, he had worried that his sister might refuse him the money. But even so, he could never have resolved to work hard and raise the money himself. Daisuke did not take the matter that seriously.
Umeko, making the most of this opportunity, tried to rouse Daisuke on a score of points. But Daisuke understood very well what she was about. The more he understood, the less inclined he was to be roused. Eventually, the conversation left the topic of money and returned to that of marriage. Since their earlier conversation, Daisuke had been twice harangued by his father on the latest prospect. His father’s reasoning was, as
always, old-fashioned and obligationbound, but this time his tactics were not as high-handed as usual. It was a fine thing to cement ties with someone of the same blood as his very lifesaver, said his father; wouldn’t Daisuke accept her? In that way, Nagai Toku could at least repay his obligations in a small way. As far as Daisuke was concerned, it was unclear as to what was so fine, or what constituted the repayment of a debt—it was all utterly illogical. Daisuke had no particular objection to the candidate herself. Given that the propriety of his father’s reasoning lay beyond the pale of argument, Daisuke did not especially mind marrying the girl if it came to that. Just as he had made it his practice not to place too much weight on anything over the past two or three years, so he recognized no need to place undue emphasis on marriage. He only knew Sagawa’s daughter from a photograph, but he felt that that was quite enough—admittedly, in the photograph she looked rather beautiful. So, if it came to marrying her, he had no intention of putting forth cumbersome conditions. It was just that he could not bring himself to actually say yes.
Such vacillation, his father would criticize, was the attitude of a blockhead who understood nothing. For his sister-in-law, who regarded marriage as the single crucial event lying between birth and death, to which all other events were to be subordinated, his attitude was appalling.
“Surely even you don’t plan to stay single all your life? Why don’t you quit acting like a spoiled child and make up your mind?’’ said Umeko, a trifle exasperated.
To stay single all his life, or to keep a mistress, or to have relations with geisha—Daisuke himself had no clear plans. The only certain thing was that unlike other single men, he could not get very interested in marriage. This could be traced to three factors: first, the quality of his disposition, which was such that he could not wholeheartedly concentrate on any one thing; second, the considerable keenness of his mind, which, given the conditions of contemporary Japan, had been primarily directed at dispelling illusions; and last, the opportunity that relatively unconstrained finances had given him to know quite a number of a certain type of woman. But Daisuke saw no need to take his analysis this far. While keeping a firm grip on the reality that was evident to him—that he was uninterested in marriage—he simply planned to let the future unfold naturally. Therefore, to set out with the premise that marriage was a necessity, and to struggle to realize it at some point, was to Daisuke unnatural, irrational, and moreover, tainted with vulgarity.