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.