Dazai Osamu -Oblique Sun 4-1

　I was wondering for a long time whether I should write to you or not. But this morning, I suddenly remembered Jesus' words, "Be as straightforward as a dove and as wise as a serpent," which strangely cheered me up and I decided to write to you. I'm Naohji's sister. Have you forgotten me? If you have forgotten, please remind me.
　I'm sorry that Naoji bothered you again the other day and caused you a lot of trouble. (But the truth is, Naoharu's affairs are his own business, and I feel it's nonsense for me to come and apologize to him. Today, I would like to ask you a favor, not about Naoji, but about me. I heard from Naoji that you suffered an accident in your apartment in Kyobashi and that you moved to your current address, and I thought about visiting you at your home in the suburbs of Tokyo, but your mother has been a little sick again since the other day, and I just can't leave her alone and go to Tokyo. So I have decided to write to you.
　There is something I would like to discuss with you.
　From the standpoint of the Women's University, my request for advice may be very cunning, cruel, and even a vicious crime, but I, no, we, are not going to be able to live as we are, so I am going to ask you, whom my younger brother Naoji seems to respect the most in the world, to listen to my unchanging feelings and give me some guidance.
　I can't stand my current life. It's not that I like it or dislike it, it's just that I don't think the three of us, father and son, will be able to survive like this.
　Yesterday, I was feeling sick, my body was hot, I was suffocating, and I was overwhelmed with myself, when a little after noon, a farmer's daughter came in the rain carrying a bag of rice on her back. I gave her the clothes I had promised her. She sat down in the dining room facing me, sipping tea, and said in a very real tone, "You know, you can't just sell your things.
In a very real tone of voice, she said, "How long will you be able to make a living from selling your things?
　I said.
"Half a year, maybe a year," I replied.
　I replied. Then, half-covering my face with my right hand, I said, "I'm sleepy.
"I'm sleepy. I'm so sleepy, I can't help it.
　I'm tired.
I'm tired. It's a nervous breakdown that makes you sleepy.
"I'm sure it is.
　I was on the verge of tears, and suddenly the words realism and romanticism came to my mind. I don't have any realism in me. I felt chills all over my body as I wondered if I would be able to live like this. My mother is half sick, sleeping and waking up, and my younger brother, as you know, is very sick at heart. When he is here, he goes to work at a nearby inn and restaurant to drink shochu, and every three days he goes on a business trip to Tokyo with the money from selling our clothes. But this is not what makes me sad. I just feel horrible that I can see my own life rotting away in the midst of this daily life, just like the leaves of a basho tree rotting away without falling. I can't stand it. That's why I want to escape from my current life, even if it means turning away from the "Women's University.
　That's why I'd like to ask you for advice.
　I want to make a clear statement to my mother and brother. I want to make it clear to my mother and brother that I have been in love with a certain person for a long time, and that I intend to live as his mistress in the future. I'm sure you know this person. The initials of her name are M.C. For a long time, whenever something painful happened to me, I wanted to go to M.C. I felt like I was dying.
　M.C. has a wife and children, just like you. He also seems to have female friends who are more beautiful and younger than me. I have never met M.C.'s wife, but she seems to be a very kind and good person. When I think of her, I think of myself as a horrible woman. However, I feel that my current life is even more horrible than that, and I can't stop myself from relying on M.C. I want to be as honest as a dove and as wise as a snake, and I want to make my love work. However, I am sure that neither my mother, brother, nor anyone else in the world will agree with me. How about you? I cry when I think that I have no choice but to think and act alone. It's the first time in my life. I wondered if there was a way to accomplish this difficult task with the blessings of everyone around me, as if I were trying to figure out the answer to some complicated algebraic factoring or something. I felt as if there was a clue to unraveling the whole thing.
　However, I wondered what M.C., the person in charge, thought of me. When I think about it, I feel depressed. So to speak, I am an impostor, ……… what should I call it, an impostor wife, or an impostor mistress, or something like that. If M.C. doesn't like it, it's over. That's why I'm asking you. So, I ask you, please, ask that person yourself. One day, six years ago, a faint, pale rainbow appeared on my chest. It was neither love nor love, but as the years passed, the rainbow became more and more colorful, and I have never lost sight of it. A rainbow in a clear sky in the evening will eventually fade away, but a rainbow in a person's chest will never fade away. Please ask that person about it. I wonder what she really thought of me. Did she really think of me like a rainbow in the sky after the rain? Did they think that I had already disappeared?
　If so, then I, too, must get rid of my rainbow. But if I don't erase my life first, the rainbow in my heart is unlikely to disappear.
　I pray for your answer.
Dear Jiro Uehara (My Chekhov. My Chekhov, M.C.)
I am getting fatter little by little these days. Rather than becoming an animalistic woman, I think I am becoming more like a human being. This summer, I read only one novel by Lawrence.

　I have not received a reply, so I will write to you again. You must have seen through every one of the letters I gave you the other day, which were full of very cunning and snake-like schemes. Truly, I tried to use all my cunning in every line of that letter. After all, I'm sure you must have thought that I was only writing to you to ask for money to save my life, and that's all. I don't deny it, but if I wanted a patron of my own, with all due respect, I would not have chosen you in particular. I have a feeling that there are many other rich old men who would love me. In fact, the other day I had a strange marriage proposal. He was a bachelor over sixty, a member of an art academy or something like that, and he came to the lodge to ask for me. This master lived near our house in Nishikatamachi, so we sometimes met him as neighbors. One day, I remember it was an autumn evening, when my mother and I were driving past the master's house, and he was standing alone by the gate of his house. The master's pale black face turned redder than the autumn leaves.
I wonder if he'll come.
　I said excitedly.
You love your mother, don't you?
　But she calmed down.
But she calmed down and said to herself, "No, you're a great man.
　No, he's a great man," she said to herself. It seems to be our family tradition to respect artists.
　The master had lost his wife the other year, and through Wada's uncle and a fellow chanting Tengu, a member of the imperial family, he made a request to his mother.　She said, "Why don't you give the Master your answer directly?
"You don't mind if I refuse, do you?
You can't do that. …… I thought it was impossible, too.
　At that time, the Master was at his villa in Karuizawa, so I sent a reply to the villa to say no. On the second day after I sent the letter, the Master himself stopped by on his way to work at a hot spring in Izu. He didn't know anything about my reply, so he came to the lodge unannounced. It seems that artists, no matter how old they are, are capable of such childish indulgences.
　Since your mother was not feeling well, I took care of her, served her tea in the kitchen, and gave her a letter of refusal.
I'm sure your letter of refusal has arrived in Karuizawa by now. I've thought it over.
　I thought it over.
"I see.
　He said in a hurried tone, wiped off his sweat, and said, "But I'm afraid I'll have to ask you again.
But please think about it again. I may not be able to make you mentally happy, so to speak, but I can make you materially happy, no matter what. I can say this clearly. Well, that's a bit of a ramble.
I don't really understand what you mean by happiness. I'm sorry if I sound cocky, but I'm not. In one of Chekhov's letters to his wife, he said, "Please have children, please have our children. In one of Nietzsche's essays, he wrote about a woman who wants to have a child. I want to have a child. Happiness is not important to me. I want money, but only if I have enough money to raise a child.
　The Master laughed in a funny way.
The Master laughed in a funny way and said, "You are a rare person. You are a rare person who can say exactly what you want to anyone. With a person like you, I may get a new inspiration for my work.
　He said, sounding a little uncomfortable for such a gentleman. I thought that if I could really rejuvenate the work of such a great artist, it would be a worthwhile thing to do, but I couldn't help but think of myself in the arms of this master.
"Is it okay if I don't have the heart of love?
　I asked with a little smile.
The Master replied seriously, "That's fine for women. It's okay for women to be vague.
　The master said seriously, "That's fine for women.
But for a woman like me, I can't think about marriage without a heart of love. I'm already an adult. Next year, I will be thirty.
　I felt as if I wanted to cover my mouth when I said that.

Dazai Osamu -Oblique Sun 3-3

　Ms. Uehara was reading a newspaper alone in her room. She was wearing a striped lined kimono and a dark blue kasuri haori.
"My wife is with my child right now, picking up rations.
　He said this in a slightly nasal voice and in a broken voice. He seemed to have mistaken me for a friend of his wife's. When I told her that I was Naoji's sister, she laughed. For some reason, I cringed.
Shall we leave?
　So saying, she pulled on her double loincloth, took out a new pair of clogs from the geta box, put them on, and quickly walked ahead of me down the apartment corridor.
　Outside, it was early winter evening. The wind was bitterly cold. It felt like a river breeze coming from the Sumida River. Mr. Uehara raised his right shoulder a little, as if he was fighting the wind, and walked silently toward Tsukiji. I ran after him.
　I entered the basement of a building behind the Tokyo Theater. There were four or five groups of customers in a long, narrow room of about 20 tatami mats, each sitting across from the other at a table, drinking in secret.
　Mr. Uehara drank sake from a cup. Mr. Uehara drank sake from a cup, then ordered another cup for me and offered me some sake. I drank two glasses from that cup and felt fine.
　Mr. Uehara drank and smoked and was silent for a long time. I, too, was silent. It was the first time in my life that I had been in a place like this, but I felt very calm and good.
You should have a drink.
What?
No, brother. No, brother, you should switch to alcohol. I used to be a drug addict once, and it gave me the creeps, but alcohol does the same thing, but people are more forgiving with it. Let's make your brother a drinker. Isn't that right?
I've seen a drunk before. I once saw a drunkard. On New Year's Day, when I was going out, a friend of my driver's was snoring loudly in the passenger seat of a car with a red face like a demon. When I screamed in surprise, the driver said that he was a drunkard and had no choice but to take him out of the car and carry him on his shoulders. He was limp as if he had no bones, but he was still mumbling.
I'm a drinker, too.
Well, you're not, are you?
You're a drinker, too.
No, you're not. I've seen a drinker before. It's just different.
　For the first time, Mr. Uehara smiled happily.
I've seen drinkers. Let's go home. You don't want to be late, do you?
No, I don't mind.
No, actually, I don't want to be cramped. Hey!　The bill!
Is it much higher? I've got a little on me.
Yeah. Well, then you'll have to pay.
I don't know if I have enough.
　I looked in my bag and told Uehara-san how much money I had.
I looked in my bag and told him how much money I had. You're being ridiculous.
　Mr. Uehara frowned and then laughed.
He frowned and then laughed, "Where would you like to go for another drink?
　I asked, but he shook his head seriously.
I shook my head seriously and said, "No, thank you. I'll pick up Tuxie for you, then you can go home.
　We walked up the dark stairs to the basement. Mr. Uehara, who was walking up the stairs first, turned around and kissed me quickly in the middle of the stairs. I kept my lips tightly closed and accepted the kiss.
　I didn't like Uehara-san in any way, and yet, from that moment on, I had that "thing" in my life. Mr. Uehara ran up the stairs, and I slowly climbed up the stairs, feeling strange and transparent, and went outside.
　After Mr. Uehara picked up Taxy, we parted ways in silence.
　As we drove away, I felt as if the world had suddenly become as wide as the ocean.
I have a lover.
　One day, feeling lonely after my husband's news, I suddenly said, "I know.
"Yes, I know. You are Hosoda, right?　Why can't you make up your mind?
　I remained silent.
　This issue came up every time something awkward happened between us. I thought to myself, "This is hopeless. It's like when you cut the wrong fabric for a dress, you can't sew it together anymore, you have to throw it all away and start cutting a new one.
"I don't think so, the baby.
　I was so horrified when my husband said to me one night, "I don't think so. Now that I think about it, my husband and I were both young. I didn't know what love was. I didn't even know what love was. I was so absorbed in the pictures of Lady Hosoda that I told everyone that if I became the wife of such a woman, I would be able to lead a beautiful daily life, and that marriage would be pointless unless I married someone with such good taste. Even so, I didn't know what love or romance was, and I didn't mind announcing my love for Lady Hosoda, and I didn't try to take it back, so things got so tangled that even the little baby that was sleeping in my belly at the time became the target of my husband's suspicion. After that, the baby died and was born, I fell ill and went to bed, and that was the end of my relationship with Yamaki.
　Naoharu must have felt some kind of responsibility for my divorce, because he said, "I'm going to die," and cried so loudly that his face rotted. I asked my brother how much he owed the apothecary, and he told me it was a frightening amount. When I asked my brother how much he owed the apothecary, he told me that it was a horrible amount, and I later found out that he had lied because he couldn't tell me the actual amount. I later found out that the actual amount was about three times as much as he had told me at the time.
I met Mr. Uehara. He is a good man. Why don't you and Mr. Uehara have a drink and play together?　Alcohol is not very cheap. I'll give you money for alcohol any time you want. And don't worry about paying the apothecary. I'll figure it out.
　The fact that I had met Mr. Uehara and had told him that he was a good man seemed to have made my brother very happy, and he immediately took the money from me and went to visit him that night.
　Addiction may be a mental illness in itself. When I praised Mr. Uehara, borrowed one of his books from my brother, read it, and told him what a great man he was, he said, "You don't understand, sister. My younger brother went to Mr. Uehara's every night with great enthusiasm, and it seemed that he was gradually turning to alcohol as Mr. Uehara had planned. When I secretly consulted with her about the apothecary's payment, she covered her face with one hand and sat still for a while, but then she looked up and smiled sadly and said, "There's no point in thinking about it. I don't know how many years it will take, but let's return a little every month.
　It's been six years since then.
　Evening glory. Oh, my brother must be in pain. He must be in a lot of pain, and he still doesn't know what he should do. He is probably just drinking himself to death every day.
　Why don't you take the plunge and become a real delinquent? Wouldn't it be easier for him if he did that?
　It was written in the notebook that there are people who are not delinquents, but now that you put it that way, I am a delinquent, my uncle is a delinquent, and even my mother seems to be a delinquent. Isn't badness a kindness?

Dazai Osamu -Oblique Sun 3-2

　Four or five days ago, after consulting with my mother, I asked Mr. Nakai, a farmer down the street, to help me, and we brought Naoharu's wardrobe, desk, bookcase, and five or six wooden boxes full of books, notebooks, etc., all the things that used to be in his room at the house in Nishikatamachi, to this place. When he came back from Tokyo, I would set up each of the chests, bookcases, etc., in a position of his choice, but until then, I thought it would be better to just leave them here in a mess. I casually picked up one of Naoharu's notebooks from a wooden box at my feet, and saw that the cover of the notebook had the words

Journal of Evening Glories

　On the cover of the notebook, the words "Yugao diary" were written, and in it, the following things were written all over. It was like Naoji's diary when he was suffering from drug addiction.

　The thought of burning to death. Don't cover up the unfathomable feeling of hell, which is unprecedented since the beginning of the human world.
　Ideas?　A lie. Principle?　A lie. Ideals?　Bullshit. Order?　No. Integrity?　Truthful?　Purity?　They are all lies. The wisteria of Ushijima is said to be 1,000 years old, and the wisteria of Kumano several hundred years old, and the longest flower ear of the former is nine feet long, while the latter is over five feet long.
　They are human children. They are alive.
　Logic is the so-called love of logic. It is not love for a living person.
　Money and women. Logic sneers and slinks away.
　Dr. Faust's brave demonstration that the smile of a virgin is more precious than the study of history, philosophy, education, religion, law, politics, economics, and society.
　Learning is another name for vanity. It is the effort of man to become less human.

　I swear, even Gaete can say that. I can write as well as I can. If you read aloud a perfect novel with no mistakes in the composition, just the right amount of comedy, sorrow that burns the reader's eyes, or solemnity that makes the reader straighten his or her so-called collar, in other words, if you read it aloud, can you write a description of Sukrin, or is it too embarrassing? I'm not sure I can write it. It is a madman's behavior to read a novel and straighten his collar. If that's the case, then you must wear a haori hakama. The better the work, the more it seems to be unpretentious. I wanted to see the smile on my friend's face, so I deliberately wrote one of my novels badly, and ran away, scratching my head and falling on my butt. Oh, the look of happiness on my friend's face at that moment!
　I'll blow a toy trumpet and tell you, here's the biggest idiot in Japan, you're still good.　What kind of love is this?
　What is this love that you wish for? He doesn't know that he is loved.
　Is there anyone who is not a bad person?
　Tasteless thoughts.
　I want money.
　Or else…
　Or I'll die of natural causes in my sleep!

　I owe the apothecary a little over a thousand yen. Today, I brought the head of the pawnshop secretly to my room and asked him if there were any pawnshops in my room that I should take, saying that I needed money urgently. Then take only the items that I have bought with my own pocket money, he said bravely, and gathered up all the junk, none of which qualified as pawnshops.
　First, a plaster figure of one hand. This is Vinasse's right hand. One hand resembling a dahlia flower, one hand completely white, just sitting there on the table. But if you look at it closely, you will see that it is the naked body of Venus, seen by a man, in a whirlwind of astonishment, shame, nakedness, thinness, all that is left of the body, a burning sensation, and this hand twisting the body. You can see that Vinasse's breathtakingly naked body begins to look so pathetic that it makes your heart ache. However, this is what we call an impractical piece of junk. The bannerman priced it at fifty cents.
　In addition, there was a large map of the suburbs of Paris, a celluloid amusement wheel with a diameter of less than a foot, and a special pen nib that could write letters thinner than thread, all of which I had bought as bargains. But he laughed and said, "I'll leave you now." I stopped him and let him carry a pile of books on his back and gave him five yen. The books on my bookshelf are almost all low-cost paperbacks, and since I buy them from used bookstores, their quality is naturally low.
　It cost me 5 yen to settle a debt of 1,000 yen. That's about how good I am in this world. It's no laughing matter.

　Decadent?　But I can't live without it, you know. I'd rather have someone who says, "Die" than someone who condemns me for saying that.　I'd rather have someone who says, "Die! I feel refreshed. However, people rarely say "Die!　But people rarely say "Die! You stingy, cautious hypocrites.
　Righteousness?　That is not the essence of the so-called class struggle. Humanity?　No kidding. I know what it is. It's about defeating the other side for our own well-being. To kill. Die!　If that's not a sentence, I don't know what is. Don't cheat.
　But there are no good guys in our class either. Morons, ghosts, money-grubbers, mad dogs, hooligans, gosaimasulu, pissing from the clouds.
　Die!　It's a waste of time to even give them a word.

　War. Japan's war is a joke.
　I don't want to be caught up in that shit and die. I'd rather die alone.

　Whenever a human being tells a lie, he or she puts on a serious face. That's how serious our leaders are these days. Pfft!

　I want to play with people who do not want to be respected by others.
　But such nice people won't play with me.

　When I pretended to be precocious, people talked about me as being precocious. When I pretended to be a lazy person, people said I was a lazy person. When I pretended I couldn't write a novel, people said I couldn't write. When I pretended to be a liar, people said I was a liar. When I pretended to be rich, people said I was rich. When I pretended to be cold-hearted, people said I was a cold-hearted person. But when I was in real pain and moaned involuntarily, people said I was pretending to be in pain.
　It didn't seem right.

　In the end, I had no choice but to kill myself.
　When I thought that suffering like this would only end in suicide, I let out a cry.

　On a spring morning, the morning sun was shining on the branch of a plum tree with two or three blossoming flowers, and a young student from Heidelberg was strangled to death on the branch.

"Mama!　Scold me, please!
What do you want?
"Wimp!　Wimp!
Yeah?　Wimp. …… That's enough, okay?
　Moms are incomparably good. When I think of her, I want to cry. I'm going to die to apologize to her.

　Please help me. Ima, ichiidodake, oyurushishimasai.

Year after year
As I see it
A crane's chicks
I'm growing up
I'll be back in a few days.

　Morphine, atromol, narcopone, pantopone, pabinal, pan-o-pin, atropine.

　What is pride? What is pride?
　Can't a man, or rather a man, live his life without thinking, "I am superior" or "I have a good point"?
　Disliking others and being disliked by others.
　It's called "Chie-kurabe.

　Solemnity = a sense of stupidity

　Anyway, since I'm alive, I must be cheating.

　A letter of application for a loan.
"Please answer me.
　Please answer me.
　Please answer me, and let it be a good news.
　I groaned to myself, thinking of all the humiliations I had suffered.
　I'm not playing a role. I'm definitely not.
　Please, please.
　I'm dying of embarrassment.
　I'm not exaggerating.
　I have been shaking night and day, waiting for your answer every day.
　Don't make me bite the sand.
　I hear a sneer coming from the wall, and late at night, I'm tossing and turning in the floor.
　Don't make me feel ashamed.
　Sis!

　I closed the journal, returned it to its wooden box, walked to the window, opened it fully, looked down at the garden smoky with white rain, and thought about those days.
　It's been six years since then. Naoji's drug addiction was the cause of my divorce, no, I shouldn't say that. Naoji often asked me for money to pay the apothecary. I had just married into the Yamaki family, so I didn't have that much money at my disposal, and it seemed like a bad idea to secretly lend the money from my bride's family to my brother in my village. My brother sent me a letter asking for some money, and I told him that I was in too much pain and embarrassment to see my sister or even talk to her on the phone. He has a reputation as a vicious person, but he is not such a person. I don't want Mom to find out about this addiction, I'm going to do something to get rid of this addiction without her knowing, if I get the money from her, I'll pay the apothecary all I owe him, and then I'll go to the villa in Shiobara and come back with a healthy body. I swear to God that I will stop using drugs from that day on, and please believe me, I will ask Mr. Uehara at the Kayano Apartments for money without telling my mother. But my brother's oaths in his letters were always false, he never went to the villa in Shiobara, his drug addiction seemed to be getting worse and worse, and his letters begging for money were written in a painful, almost screaming tone. In his letters begging for money, he would swear in a pained tone that he would stop taking the medicine this time, so sorrowful that I wanted to turn my face away from him. Even though I thought he might be lying again, I made him sell his brooch to Mr. Oseki and send the money to Mr. Uehara's apartment.
What kind of person is Mr. Uehara?
He's a small, pale, ugly man.
　He is a small, pale, ugly man," Oseki answered.
He's a small, pale, ugly man," Oseki replied. Most of the time, it's just his wife and his two children, six or seven. This wife is not very beautiful, but she seems to be a kind and well-balanced person. I can leave my money in her hands without worry.
　At that time, I was a carefree person, like a different person compared to the person I am now, but still, the continual requests for more and more money made me worry so much that on my way home from Noh, I returned my car at Ginza and walked alone to Kayano's apartment in Kyobashi.

Dazai Osamu -Oblique Sun 3-1

　I felt as if I couldn't live any longer. I wondered if this was that feeling of anxiety, a painful wave lapping at my chest, clamping and loosening my heart like white clouds rushing past one after another in the sky after an evening shower. My breathing became labored, my eyes darkened, and I felt as if all the strength in my body was slipping away from the tips of my fingers, making it impossible for me to continue knitting.
　So today, I took a wicker chair to the edge of the tatami room and started to knit a saree, which I had started to knit in the spring of last year, but had not finished yet. The yarn was a fuzzy pale peony color, and I was going to add some cobalt blue yarn to it to make a seta. This pale peony-colored yarn was the yarn with which my mother knitted my neckband twenty years ago, when I was still a primary school student. The end of the neckband was used as a hood, and when I put it on and looked in the mirror, I saw that I looked like a little demon. I couldn't help but feel disgusted when I put it on and looked in the mirror, because the color was so different from the color of the other students' neckties. A friend of mine who paid a lot of taxes in the Kansai region complimented me in a mild tone of voice, saying, "You have a nice neckband," but I felt so embarrassed that I never wore this neckband again, and had abandoned it for a long time. In the spring of this year, I started to unravel it and make it my own sareta, as a way of reviving a dead item, but I didn't like the fuzzy color, so I threw it away again. But as I knitted, I realized that the pale peony yarn and the gray rainy sky blended into one, creating an indescribably soft and mild color tone. I had no idea. I didn't know the important thing that a costium should be in harmony with the color of the sky. I was somewhat surprised and dumbfounded at how beautiful and wonderful harmony is. The gray rainy sky and the pale peony-colored woolen yarn, when put together, made both look vibrant at the same time. The woolen yarn in my hands suddenly felt warm, and the damp rainy sky felt as soft as a billow. It reminds me of Monet's painting of the temple in the mist. I felt as if the color of the yarn had made me aware of the word "Gu" for the first time. Good Lord. My mother knew how beautifully this pale peony color would harmonize with the snowy winter sky, and she took the trouble to choose it for me. She never said a word about this color until I really understood its beauty, and waited for twenty years, pretending not to notice it. At the same time, I felt that she was a good mother, but at the same time, a cloud of fear and worry welled up in my heart, thinking that Naoji and I would bully her, embarrass her, weaken her, and let her die. The more I thought about it, the more horrible and bad things I could foresee, and the more anxious I became, the more I couldn't live any longer.
"Mother!
　She turned her face upward, closed her eyes, and involuntarily said, "Mother.
　She was leaning against a desk in the corner of the room, reading a book.
"Yes?
　She replied suspiciously.
　I was puzzled, and then I said in a particularly loud voice
The rose has finally bloomed. Did you know that, Mother?　I realized it now. It's finally bloomed.
　The rose was right in front of the edge of the tatami room. It was a rose that Wada's uncle had brought back once upon a time from France, England, or some other distant place I can't remember, and he had planted it in the garden of the villa a couple of months ago. I knew for sure that one of them had finally bloomed this morning, but to hide my embarrassment, I made a big deal of it as if I had just noticed it. The flower was a deep purple color, with an air of arrogance and strength.
I knew it.
　Mother said quietly.
I knew it," she said quietly, "but it seems so important to you.
Maybe so. Do you feel sorry for me?
No, I'm just saying that you have that quality about you. You like to put pictures of Luna'aru on the matchboxes in the kitchen and make handkerchiefs for your dolls. And when I listen to you talk about the roses in your garden, it's like you're talking about a living person.
"That's because I don't have children.
　The words came out of my mouth in a way I hadn't expected. I was fiddling with the knitting on my knees, feeling bad about what I had just said.
　--I was fiddling with the knitting on my knees when I heard a man say, "You're twenty-nine.
　I felt as if I could hear the man's voice clearly over the tickling bus, as if I were listening to a telephone call, and my cheeks burned with embarrassment.
　I felt my cheeks burning with embarrassment. She had been wearing a gauze mask since the other day, and perhaps that was the reason why she was so quiet these days. She has been wearing the mask according to Naoji's instructions. About ten days ago, Naoji came back from a southern island with a black and blue face.
　Without warning, at dusk in the summer, he came into the garden through the back door.
He came into the garden through the back door one summer evening without warning. It's a house of bad taste. It's Rairaiken. You should put a sign on the door saying you have siumai.
　That was Naoji's greeting when he first met me.
　A couple of days before that, my mother had been sleeping with a tongue disorder. She said that the tip of her tongue hurt when she moved it, even though it looked the same on the outside.　I told her to see a doctor, but she just shook her head.
I told him to see a doctor, but he just shook his head and said, "They'll laugh at me.
　I told her to see a doctor, but she shook her head and said, "They would laugh at me. I applied Lugol's solution, but it didn't seem to help at all, and I was feeling strangely irritated.
　Just then, Naoji came home.
　He sat at his mother's bedside, bowed and said, "I'm home," then stood up and looked around the small house.
How is she?　Has your mother changed?
"She's changed, she's changed. "She's changed. I hope she dies soon. I hope she dies soon, because I don't think she can survive in this world. I'm so miserable, I can't stand to look at her.
What about me?
"I'm sick. You look like you've got two or three guys. You want a drink?　I'm drinking tonight.
　I went to the only inn in the tribe and asked the proprietress, Osaki-san, for some sake, since my brother had returned, but she said she was out of sake, so I went home and told Naoji. When I returned home and told Naoji that, he looked at me like I was a stranger he had never seen before and said, "Well, that's because I'm a bad negotiator. I cooked up some of Naoji's favorite baked apples and eggs, replaced the light bulb in the dining room with a brighter one, and waited for a long time.
"Hello, hello. Is everything all right? I'm having some shochu.
　I'm having shochu," she said in a low voice as if it were a big deal, her round eyes like the eyes of a carp.
"Shochu? Is it methyl?
No, it's not methyl.
It doesn't make you sick, does it?
Yes, but it's …….
Let him have it.
　Osaki-san nodded as she swallowed her spit and left.
　I went over to her mother's place.
I went to her and told her that I was drinking at her place.
　When I told her that I was drinking at her place, she laughed a little and said, "Yes.
She said, "Yes. I wonder if she's done with the opium. You go and finish your dinner. Then the three of us will sleep in this room tonight. Take Naoji's futon and put it in the middle of the room.
　I felt as if I wanted to cry.
　Towards the end of the night, Naoji came home with rough footsteps. The three of us slept together in the tatami room under a mosquito net.
"Why don't you tell your mother some stories about the South?
　I said as I slept.
"There's nothing. Nothing. I've forgotten. When I arrived in Japan and got on the train, I saw the beautiful rice paddies from the train window. That's all. Turn off the lights. I won't be able to sleep.
　I turned off the light. The summer moonlight filled the mosquito net like a flood.
　The next morning, Naoharu lay on his stomach on his bed, smoking a cigarette and looking out toward the ocean.
"Your tongue hurts?
　He asked, as if he had just noticed that his mother was sick for the first time.
　She just laughed faintly.
She just smiled faintly and said, "It must be psychological. He probably goes to bed at night with his mouth open. He's sloppy. Put on a mask. You should put some Rivanol on a piece of gauze and put it inside the mask.
　When I heard this, I erupted.
"What kind of therapy is that?
"It's called aesthetic therapy.
But I'm sure your mother hates masks.
　"But I'm sure your mother hates masks," she said, "not just masks, but eye patches, glasses, and anything else you put on your face.
"Hey, mother. Do you wear a mask?
　I asked her.
"Yes, I do.
　When I asked her if she would wear a mask, she replied seriously and lowly, "Yes. I was surprised when she replied in a serious and low tone, "I will." She seemed to believe and follow whatever Naoji said.
　After breakfast, I made a mask by moistening gauze with Rivanol solution, as Naoharu had said earlier, and brought it to her mother.
　A little after noon, Naoji said he had to see his friends in Tokyo and his teacher in literature, so he changed into a suit, got 2,000 yen from his mother, and left for Tokyo. It had been almost ten days since then, but Naoji had not returned. It has been almost ten days since then, but Naoji has not returned.
Rivanol is a good medicine," she said. When I wear this mask, the pain in my tongue disappears.
　She said with a laugh, but I couldn't help but feel that she was lying to me. I wondered what Naoji was doing in Tokyo, playing around all over the city with the novelist Uehara-san, and wondering about the madness of Tokyo. I wondered what Naoji was doing in Tokyo.
"Oh.
　Now, with nowhere else to go, she wandered up the stairs and entered the western room on the second floor.

Dazai Osamu -Oblique Sun 2-3

By "apprentice," do you mean maid?
No, it was my uncle, you know, from Komaba.
　"My uncle, you know, from Komaba," he said, referring to a certain sovereign.
He said that since she was related to us, Kazuko would not be so lonely and uncomfortable if she went into service as a tutor for Himemiya.
Isn't there any other way to work?
He said that Kazuko would never be able to find another job.
Why not?　You know, why not?
　Her mother only smiled sadly, but did not answer in any way.
No!　I don't want to talk about it.
　I don't want to talk about it." I thought I had said something wrong, but I couldn't stop myself. But I couldn't stop myself.
"I'm the one who made these Tabi Shoes, these Tabi Shoes.
　When I said this, tears came to my eyes and I started to cry. I raised my face, brushed away the tears with the back of my hand, and turned to my mother, thinking, "I shouldn't, I shouldn't, I shouldn't." The words came out one after another, as if unconsciously, without any relation to my body.
The words came out one after another, as if unconsciously, unrelated to the physical body, "You said it yourself. You said that Kazuko's presence was the reason why your mother went to Izu. You said that without Kazuko, you would die. That's why Kazuko never goes anywhere, but stays by your mother's side, wearing Tabi Shoes like this, thinking only of giving her delicious vegetables, but when she hears that Naoharu is coming back, she suddenly interrupts me and asks me to be the maidservant of Her Highness. It's too much.
　She thought she was saying a terrible thing, but she couldn't stop herself from speaking, as if she were a different creature.
When we become poor and have no money, why don't we sell our kimonos? Why don't we sell our kimonos and this house? I can do anything I want. I can be anything. I can be a female clerk in the village office, I can be anything. If they don't use me at the town hall, I can be a jotomake. Poverty is nothing. If only my mother would take care of me, I would stay by her side for the rest of my life, but she loves Naoji more than me. I'm leaving. I'm leaving. I've always been at odds with Naoji anyway, so the three of us living together would be unhappy for both of us. I have lived alone with my mother for so long that I have nothing left to regret. I hope that from now on, Naoji and your mother will live together without water, and that you will do your duty to your parents. I'm sick of this. I'm tired of the life we've been leading. I'm going to leave. I'm going to leave right now, today. I have a place to go.
　I stood up.
"Kazuko!
　She said sternly, then stood up straighter, with more dignity in her face than she had ever shown me before, and faced me, so that she looked a little taller than I was.
　I wanted to say "I'm sorry" right away, but I couldn't bring myself to say it, and instead another word came out.
I deceived you. Your mother deceived me. She was using me until Naoharu came. I'm her maid. Now that you're done, she wants you to go to the palace.
　I stood up and cried out as loud as I could.
I stood up and cried as hard as I could, "You are such a fool.
　I looked up and saw my mother's voice trembling with anger.
　I raised my head.
Yes, you are a fool. That's right, you're a fool. You're a fool and you're in my way. Wouldn't you be better off without them?　What does it mean to be poor?　What does money mean?　I don't know. Love, your mother's love, that's all I've ever believed in.
　I've lived my life believing in love, in your love.
　Her mother turned her face away. She was crying. I wanted to say I'm sorry and hug her, but my hands were stained from working in the fields, and I felt a little guilty.
I'm leaving.　I'm leaving. I have somewhere to go.
　I ran to the bathroom, washed my face and hands and feet, and then went to my room to change my clothes. I cried so hard that I lost weight and began to feel faint. Gradually, I began to miss someone so much that I couldn't wait to see his face and hear his voice.
　In the early evening, her mother quietly came upstairs to the western room, flicked on the light, and came over to the bed.
Kazuko.
　She came up to the bed and called out very softly, "Kazuko.
"Yes?
　I got up, sat on the bed, scratched my hair with both hands, looked at her face, and smiled.
　I sat up in bed, scratched my hair with my hands, looked at her face and giggled. She giggled too, and then sank deeply into the sofa under the window.
For the first time in my life, I disobeyed my uncle Wada's orders. I disobeyed Uncle Wada's orders for the first time in my life. …… Your mother has just written a letter in reply to your uncle. She wrote that I should take care of my children. Kazuko, let's sell our kimonos. Let's sell more and more of their kimonos, waste as much as we can, and live a luxurious life. I don't want you to work in the fields anymore. I don't care if you buy expensive vegetables. You can't do that kind of work every day.
　To tell the truth, I was beginning to find it a little difficult to work in the fields every day. The reason why I had cried so madly earlier was because I was tired of working in the fields and sadness all mixed together, and I felt so jealous and fed up with everything.
　I sat on my bed, slumped over, and kept silent.
Kazuko.
Yes.
Where do you mean you have somewhere to go?
　I was aware that I was turning red all the way to my neck.
"Hosoda-sama?
　I remained silent.
　Your mother gave a deep sigh.
Can I tell you something about the past?
Please.
　Please," I whispered.
I whispered, "When you left Mr. Yamaki's house and came back to our house in Nishikatamachi, I don't think your mother said anything to reproach you, but she did say one thing: she was betrayed by you. Do you remember?　Then you started crying. …… I felt bad for using such a horrible word, betrayal. ……
　But when your mother told me that, I was so grateful that I cried with joy.
But when my mother told me that, I cried with joy, because I was so grateful. "What she meant by betrayal was not that you had left the Yamaki family. It was when Mr. Yamaki told me that Kazuko was actually in love with Hosoda. When she told me that, I really felt like my face was going to change. Because Mr. Hosoda had a wife and a child long before that, and no matter how much I adored him, I couldn't do anything about it. ……
It's a terrible thing to be in love. It's just that Mr. Yamaki thought it was a bad idea.
I doubt that. I hope you are not still in love with that Hosoda-sama. Where are you going?
I'm not going to Mrs. Hosoda.
Really?　Then where is it?
"Mother, I was thinking the other day, what is the one thing that makes us completely different from other animals?　They may even have faith. Humans claim to be the spiritual head of all things, but we don't seem to be any different from other animals in any essential way, do we?　But, Mother, there is one thing. You don't understand, do you? You don't understand, but there is one thing that no other creature has, and only humans have. It's called a princess. How about it?
　Her mother blushed slightly and laughed beautifully.
She smiled beautifully and said, "Oh, I hope Kazuko's dream will bear good fruit. Every morning, your mother prays to your father to make Kazuko happy.
　In my mind's eye, I could see the scene of the autumn field as I drove through Nasuno with your father, and then got off at the halfway point. Hagi (bush clover), Nadeshiko (Japanese apricot), Rindo (Japanese apricot), Onarohana (Japanese apricot), and other autumn flowers were in bloom. The wild grapes were still green.
　Then, I was on a motorboat with my father on Lake Biwa, and I jumped into the water. A small fish living in the algae hit my leg, and the shadow of my leg was clearly visible on the bottom of the lake.
　I slid off the bed, hugged my mother's lap, and said for the first time
I slid off the bed and hugged her, and for the first time, I was able to say, "Mother, I'm sorry about earlier.
　I was able to say, "I'm sorry about earlier.
　That day, I think, was when the last remaining light of our happiness shone, and then Naoji came back from the south, and our real hell began.

Dazai Osamu -Oblique Sun 2-2

　There was an interesting poem in a newspaper right after the war ended, but when I think back on it now, I feel as if many things happened, but at the same time, I feel as if nothing happened. I don't want to talk about or listen to the memories of the war. So many people died, and yet it is so trite and boring. But then again, am I being selfish? The only thing that doesn't seem so clichéd is the time I was conscripted to wear split-toed socks and play the role of "Yoitomake. I had a lot of unpleasant experiences, but thanks to the work I did, my body became much stronger, and even now, when I am in trouble, I sometimes think about doing it to survive.
　When the war was getting desperate, a man in a military-like uniform came to my house in Nishikatamachi and handed me a piece of paper that said I had been drafted and a daily schedule of my work. When I looked at the daily schedule, I couldn't help but feel tears welling up in my eyes because I had to go to the mountains at the back of Tachikawa every other day from the next day.
Is it wrong to be a substitute?
　I couldn't stop the tears from flowing and I began to sob.
The man replied firmly, "Since you were recruited by the army, it must be you.
　The man replied firmly.
　I made up my mind to go.
　The next day it was raining and we were lined up at the foot of a mountain in Tachikawa, where the officer gave a sermon.
The officer began his sermon with the words, "The war will be won.
　He began by saying.
He began by saying, "The war will always be won, but if you don't do your jobs as ordered by the military, your operations will be hindered and you will end up like Okinawa. I want you to do your job as you are told. Also, there may be spies crawling into these mountains, so please be careful of each other. From now on, you will be working in the same way as soldiers, crawling into the camp, so please be very careful not to tell anyone what is going on in the camp.
　He said.
　The mountain was smoky with rain, and about five hundred men and women were standing in the rain listening to him. Among them were men and women from the National School, all with cold, weeping faces. The rain penetrated my raincoat and soaked my jacket, eventually soaking my underwear.
　I spent the rest of the day doing mokko katsugi, and on the train ride home, I couldn't help but burst into tears. But the next time, it was a good tug of war. I found the job most interesting.
　As I went to the mountains two or three times, the boys from the National School began to stare at me. One day, as I was putting on my moccasins, a couple of boys passed me, and then one of them said, "Is that the spy?
"He's the spy?
　I was startled to hear one of them whisper, "He's a spy?
"Why would he say that?
　I asked the young woman walking alongside me, carrying her mokko.
She looks like a foreigner.
　The young woman replied seriously.
Do you think I'm a spy, too?
No.
　No." This time she smiled a little.
I'm Japanese.
　I chuckled to myself, thinking that my words sounded like ridiculous nonsense.
　One fine day, as I was hopping on a log with a group of men in the morning, the young officer on watch frowned, pointed at me, and said, "Hey, kid.
The young officer on watch frowned and pointed at me, "Hey, kiddo. You, come over here.
　I followed him, my heart thumping with anxiety and fear, until I came to a pile of boards that had just come from the sawmill.
The officer walked over to it, stopped, and turned to me, saying, "I know you have a hard time every day. I know you must have a hard time every day.
　He smiled with his white teeth.
You're standing here?
It's cool and quiet here, you can take a nap on this board. If you are bored, you might want to read this.
　He took out a small paperback book from his jacket pocket, dropped it on the board, and said, "You may read this if you are bored.
"You can read this if you like.
　The book was labeled "Troika".
　I took up the book and said
I took up the book and said, "Thank you very much. I have a friend in my family who loves books, and he is currently in the south.
　But he seemed to have misheard me.
I said, "Oh, yes. He is your husband, isn't he? Oh, so he's your husband.
　He shook his head and said sadly.
Anyway, I'll be on guard duty here today, and I'll bring you your lunch later, so you can get some rest.
　I'll bring you your lunch later.
　I sat down on a piece of wood and read a paperback book, and was about halfway through when the officer came in, his shoes clacking.
I've brought your lunch. I've brought your lunch.
　He left his lunch on the grass and hurried back.
　After I finished my lunch, I crawled up on a piece of wood, lay down and read a book, finished it all and started to take a nap.
　It was past three in the afternoon when I woke up. I suddenly had a feeling that I had seen that young officer somewhere before, and thought about it, but could not remember. I got down from the lumber and was stroking my hair when I heard the clacking of shoes again.
"Well, thank you for your hard work today. You may go home now.
　I ran over to the officer and offered him a paperback book and wanted to thank him, but I couldn't find the words. I looked up at the officer, and when our eyes met, tears began to fall from my eyes, and the officer's eyes also glistened with tears.
　We parted in silence, and the young officer never came to see us again. My mother was very worried about my health, but I grew stronger, and now I am secretly confident in my yotomake business, and I am a woman who does not feel any pain when working in the fields.
　Although I said that I didn't want to talk about the war or listen to it, I ended up talking about my "precious experiences", but that's about all I want to talk about in my memories of the war.
Last year, nothing happened.
The year before last, there was nothing.
The year before that, there was nothing.
　The only thing that remains for me, ridiculously, is the transience of this pair of Tabi Shoes.
　I've already digressed from the topic of Tabi Shoes, but I've been wearing these Tabi Shoes, the only souvenir of the war, and going out to the fields every day, trying to distract myself from the secret anxiety and panic in my heart, but my mother seems to be getting noticeably weaker day by day these days.
　Snake eggs.
　Fire.
　Since then, she seems to have become much more sickly. I, on the other hand, feel that she is becoming more and more crude and vulgar. I can't help but feel as if I'm getting fatter and fatter, sucking all the life out of your mother.
　Even at the time of the fire, she joked that it was just firewood to burn, and never mentioned the fire again. After the fire, she would sometimes moan in the middle of the night, and on windy nights, she would pretend to go to the bathroom and get out of bed late at night to look around the house. His face was always pale, and there were days when he looked as if he could barely walk. He used to say that he wanted to help in the fields, but once I told him not to do so, he carried five or six large buckets of water from the well to the fields, and the next day he said that his shoulders were so stiff that he could hardly breathe, and he was bedridden for a day. After that, he seemed to have given up working in the fields, and even if he came out to the fields once in a while, he would just stare at my work.
I wonder if it's true that people who love summer flowers die in summer.
　I wonder if it's true that people who love summer flowers die in summer…" Again today, Mother was watching me work in the field and suddenly said something like that. I was silently watering the eggplant. Oh, it's early summer already.
I like the nematodes, but there are none in the garden here.
　Mother said quietly again.
There are many oleander trees.
　I said in a deliberately brusque tone.
I don't like them. I like most summer flowers, but that one is too naughty.
I prefer roses. I'd prefer roses, but they bloom in all four seasons, so if you like roses, you have to die four times: in spring, in summer, in autumn, and in winter.
　They both laughed.
Why don't we take a break?
　Mother continued to laugh.
"There's something I want to discuss with you today, Kazuko.
What is it?　I don't want to talk about dying.
　I followed her and sat down on a bench under a wisteria trellis. The wisteria was no longer in bloom, and the soft afternoon sun was filtering through the leaves, turning them green as it fell into our lap.
It's something I've been wanting to ask you about for a long time, but I've been waiting until today to tell you when we're both in a good mood. It's not a good story, anyway. But today, I feel like I can talk about it easily, so please be patient and listen to me until the end. Actually, Naoji is alive.
　I stiffened my body.
Five or six days ago, I received a call from Wada's uncle, a man who used to work for his uncle's company. But there was one thing I didn't like. But, there was one thing I didn't like. According to the man, Naoji has a very bad opium addiction. ……
Again!
　My mouth quirked up as if I had just eaten something foul. When Naoharu was in high school, he imitated a certain novelist and became addicted to drugs, which caused him to owe an incredible amount of money to the drugstore. It took his mother two years to pay off the entire debt to the drugstore.

"Yes. I heard that he started again. However, he said that he would not be allowed to return home until the problem was fixed, so he would surely come back and fix it. According to my uncle's letter, even if he were to return home after being cured, it would be impossible to send a person with such a heart to work anywhere immediately. So, when Naoharu comes back, it would be better to take him back to this mountain villa in Izu and let him rest here for a while without sending him anywhere. Also, Kazuko, your uncle has one more thing he wants you to do. According to your uncle, our money has already run out of everything. Because of the blockage of savings and the property tax, my uncle had no more time to send us money as he had done in the past. So, when Naoji came back, my uncle had to work very hard to make ends meet if he had to live with my mother, Naoji and Kazuko. So, either find a place for Kazuko to marry or find a home for her to work.

Dazai Osamu -Oblique Sun 2-1

About ten days had passed since the snake egg incident, and a series of ominous events had occurred, deepening your mother's grief and diminishing her life.
　I almost started the fire.
　I started the fire. I had never dreamed of such a horrible thing happening in my life, not even in my childhood.
　Was I such a so-called "princess" that I didn't even notice the very obvious fact that if you mistreat the fire, a fire will break out?
　When I woke up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, I walked up to the doorway and saw that the bathroom was brighter. I casually peeked in and saw that the glass door of the bathroom was red and I could hear it crackling. I ran to the door of the bathroom, opened it, and went outside in my bare feet to find a pile of firewood piled up by the bath stove burning with great intensity.
　I flew to the farmhouse below and banged on the door with all my might.
"Mr. Nakai!　Please wake up, there is a fire!
　Mr. Nakai was already asleep.
　Mr. Nakai seemed to be already asleep.
I'll be right there.
　While I was saying, "Please hurry, please hurry," he came running out of the house, still in his yukata (summer kimono).
　The two of us ran back to the fire and were pouring water from the pond with a bucket when we heard Mother's cry from the hallway of the tatami room. I threw down the bucket, walked up the hall from the garden, and said, "Mother, don't worry.
I threw down the bucket, walked up the hallway from the garden, and said, "Don't worry, Mother.
　Then I flew back to the fire, this time fetching water for the bath and handing it to Mr. Nakai, who poured it on the pile of firewood, but the fire was too strong to be extinguished.
It was a fire. There's a fire. The villa is on fire.
　Immediately, forty-five villagers broke down the fence and jumped into the house. They carried buckets of water from the irrigation canal under the fence and put out the fire in a few minutes. The fire was about to spread to the roof of the bathroom.
　I was so relieved, but then I realized the cause of the fire and was shocked. It was only then that I realized that the fire had started because I had put the leftover firewood from the bath stove beside the pile of firewood in the evening, thinking that I had pulled it out of the stove and put it out. While I was standing there, I heard Mr. Nishiyama's wife talking loudly outside the fence, saying that the bathhouse had burned down because of the mismanagement of the fire.
　Mr. Fujita, the village mayor, Officer Ninomiya, and Mr. Ouchi, the chief of the police force, came to see me.
Mr. Fujita, with his usual gentle smile, said, "You must be frightened. What's the matter?
　What's wrong?
It was my fault," he said. I thought I had erased the firewood.
　I was about to say this, but I felt so miserable that I burst into tears and kept my head down and kept quiet. I was so miserable that I burst into tears. I suddenly felt ashamed of my distraught appearance, barefoot and in a nightie, and I felt that I had really fallen.
I thought, "Okay. Where's your mother?
　Mr. Fujita said quietly in a soothing tone.
She's resting in her room. She was terribly frightened. ……
But, well.
　But, well," said young Officer Ninomiya.
"I'm glad the house didn't catch on fire.
　But, well," said young Officer Ninomiya soothingly, "I'm glad the house didn't catch fire.
　Just then, Mr. Nakai, a farmer down the street, came back to the house, dressed in his new clothes.
Then Mr. Nakai, a farmer downstairs, came back to the house, changed his clothes, and said, "It's just a little firewood. It's not even a fire.
　It's just a little firewood.
"I see. I understand very well.
　The village mayor, Mr. Fujita, nodded his head two or three times and then whispered something to Officer Ninomiya.
Then he said, "I'm going home, so please give my regards to your mother.
　Then he left with Mr. Ouchi, the head of the police force, and the others.
　Officer Ninomiya was the only one who stayed behind, and he walked up to me and said in a low voice, as if he was only breathing
"Well, then, I won't tell you anything about tonight.
　I'm not going to tell you about tonight.
　When Officer Ninomiya left, Mr. Nakai, a farmer down the street, asked, "What did Mr. Ninomiya say?
When Officer Ninomiya left, Mr. Nakai, a farmer down the street, asked, "What did Ninomiya-san say?
　Mr. Nakai, a farmer downstairs, asked in a tense, worried voice, "What did Mr. Ninomiya say?
I replied, "He said he can't stay.
　I replied, "He said he couldn't deliver it." When I replied, some of the neighbors who still lived near the fence seemed to have heard my reply, and said, "Well, that's good, that's good.
　Mr. Nakai said good night and left, leaving me alone, standing beside a pile of burnt firewood, looking up at the sky with tears in my eyes, it was almost dawn.
　I washed my hands, feet, and face in the bathroom and, feeling a bit nervous about seeing my mother, I lingered in the three tatami mats of the bathroom fixing my hair.
　When dawn broke, I heard footsteps softly approaching the tatami room, and saw that my mother had already changed her clothes and was sitting on a chair in the banquet room, looking exhausted. When she saw me, she smiled, but her face was surprisingly pale.
　I did not laugh, but stood silently behind her chair.
　After a while, she said.
It was nothing, wasn't it? It's just wood for burning.
　I suddenly felt happy.
　I suddenly felt happy and laughed. I was reminded of the biblical proverb that says, "A word well spoken is like a golden apple set in a silver statue," and I thanked God for the happiness of having such a kind mother. What happened last night is what happened last night. I thought to myself, "I won't dwell on it any longer." I looked at the morning sea of Izu through the glass door of the room and stood behind my mother forever.
　After a quick breakfast, I was sorting through a pile of burnt firewood when Osaki-san, the proprietress of the only inn in the village, asked, "What's wrong?
"What's the matter?　What's wrong with you?　I've never heard of you before, but what happened last night?
　What happened to you last night?" She came running from the door of the garden, tears shining in her eyes.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
　I whispered in apology.
I whispered my apologies. What about the police, young lady?
They're fine.
I'm glad.
　Oh, I'm glad.
　I asked Osaki-san how I could thank and apologize to the villagers. She told me that money would be the best way to go, and told me which houses I should go around to apologize with it.
But if you don't want to go around by yourself, I'll go with you.
Wouldn't it be better if I went alone?
Can you go alone?　It's better for you to go alone.
I'll go alone.
　Then Osaki-san helped me a little with the cleanup of the burned area.
　After the cleanup was complete, I took some money from my mother, wrapped one hundred-yen bill in a piece of Mino paper, and wrote "I'm sorry" on each wrapper.
　The first thing I did was to go to the town hall. The village mayor, Mr. Fujita, was not at home, so I handed the package to the daughter of the recipient and said, "I am sorry about last night.
I'm sorry for what I did to you last night. I will be careful from now on, so please forgive me. Please give my regards to the village headman.
　He apologized.
　Then I went to the house of Mr. Ouchi, the chief of the police force, and when he came to the door, he looked at me and smiled sadly.
I could barely say, "I'm sorry about last night.
　I could barely say, "I'm sorry about last night," so I hurried away, and on the way, tears welled up in my eyes and my face was ruined.
"Are you still going somewhere?
　"Yes, we are.
She said, "Yes, we are.
　I replied without looking up.
"Thank you for your hard work.
　He said sadly.
　With the help of my mother's love, I was able to go around the whole area without crying once.
　When I went to the mayor's house, the mayor was not home, but his son's wife was, but as soon as she saw me, she burst into tears and went over to him. When I went around the neighborhood, everyone was sympathetic and consoled me. However, the wife of the previous owner, Mr. Nishiyama, who was about forty years old, was the only one who scolded me severely.
She was the only one who scolded me severely: "Please be careful in the future. I don't know if you're a courtesan or what, but I've been watching your playful lifestyle with trepidation for some time now. I don't know who you are or what you are, but I've been watching your playful lifestyle with trepidation. You really should be careful from now on. If the wind had been that strong last night, the whole village would have been on fire.
　Mr. Nishiyama's wife was the one who said loudly outside the fence that the bathhouse had burned down and that the fire in the kamado had been mismanaged, while Mr. Nakai, a farmer down the road, jumped in front of the village mayor and Officer Ninomiya and defended her, saying that the fire had not gone too far. However, I also felt the truth in what Mr. Nishiyama's wife said. I really felt that she was right. I don't begrudge Mr. Nishiyama's wife one bit. Mother comforted me by joking that it was just firewood to be burned, but if the wind had been strong at that time, as Nishiyama's wife said, the whole village might have been burned. But if the wind had been strong at that time, as Nishiyama's wife said, the whole village might have been burned down. If that had happened, I would not have been able to apologize even if I died. If I were to die, your mother would not be alive, and I would have to shed the name of your late father. Nowadays, there is no such thing as the imperial family or the nobility, but if I am going to die, I want to do it with dignity. If I'm going to die, however, I want to do it boldly and gloriously. I don't want to die in such a miserable way, like starting a fire and dying to apologize for it. Anyway, I had to be more firm.
　The next day, I started working hard in the fields. The daughter of Mr. Nakai, a farmer down the street, sometimes helped me. I felt as if I was becoming a wild country girl, even though I was knitting on the porch with her mother. I felt cramped and suffocated even when I was knitting on the porch with my mother, and felt more comfortable going out into the fields and digging up the soil.
　It was more comfortable to go out into the fields and dig up the earth. This is not the first time I have done this kind of hard work. I was conscripted during the war and was even forced to work as a yeoman. The Tabi Shoes that I wear in the fields now were rationed by the military at that time. They were surprisingly comfortable, and when I walked around the garden wearing them, I felt as if I understood the ease with which birds and animals walked on the ground barefoot, which made me so happy that my heart tingled. I was so happy that my heart was tingling. That was my only happy memory of the war. When I think about it, the war was so boring.
Last year, there was nothing.
The year before last, there was nothing.