Japanese Literature

第三章

ある朝、ルオー爺さんがシャルルの足を固定するためのお金（40スーの75フラン）と七面鳥を持ってきた。ルオーは、シャルルが亡くなったことを聞き、できる限りの慰めをした。

「私も経験したことがあるからね。愛する人を失ったとき、私は一人になりたくて野原に行きました。木のふもとに倒れ、泣き、神を呼び、神にくだらない話をしました。枝の上にいるモグラのようになりたいと思いました。モグラの体内には虫がたくさんいて、死んでしまっていました。そして、その瞬間にも、素敵な奥さんに抱かれている人がいると思うと、私は棒で大地を大きく叩きました。私は食べないことでかなり頭がおかしくなっていました。カフェに行くこと自体が嫌になっていたのです、信じられないでしょう。さて、非常に穏やかに、一日ごとに、冬の上に春が、夏の上に秋が来て、これは一枚ずつ、一片ずつ、すり減っていきました。しかし、それは私たち全員の運命であるため、完全に諦めて、他の人が死んだからといって、自分も死にたいと思ってはいけません。気を取り直して、ボヴァリーさん。過ぎ去ったことです 娘があなたのことを忘れていると言っていますよ。もうすぐ春が来ますよ。ワールレーンでウサギ狩りでもして楽しませてあげよう。”

シャルルは彼のアドバイスに従った。彼はベルトー家に戻りました。5ヶ月前と同じようになっていた。梨の木はすでに花を咲かせ、ルオー農夫は元気になって農園を行き来し、活気に満ちていた。

ルオー農夫は、自分の立場をわきまえて、医師に最大の関心を寄せ、帽子を脱がないように頼み、病気のような声で話しかけ、クロテッドクリームや洋ナシの煮込みなど、他の人に比べて軽いものが用意されていなかったので、怒ったふりをした。彼は物語を語った。チャールズは笑っていましたが、妻のことが急に思い出されて気が滅入っていました。コーヒーが運ばれてきたが、彼はそれ以上妻のことを考えなかった。

一人暮らしに慣れてくると、妻のことはあまり気にならなくなってきた。一人暮らしに慣れてくると、妻のことはあまり気にならなくなった。食事の時間を変えたり、説明なしに出入りしたり、疲れたときにはベッドの上で体を伸ばしたりできるようになった。疲れた時にはベッドの上で体を伸ばして寝ることもできるようになった。一方で、妻の死は彼のビジネスに悪影響を及ぼしていなかった。というのも、この1ヶ月間、人々は「かわいそうな若者。彼の名前は話題になり、彼の仕事は増え、しかも彼は好きなようにベルトーに行くことができた。彼は目的のない希望を持ち、漠然とした幸せを感じていた。覗き窓の前でヒゲを磨くと、自分がより格好良くなったように思えた。

ある日、彼は3時頃にベルトーに到着しました。みんな畑に行っていた。台所に入っても、エマの姿はすぐには見えませんでしたが、外の雨戸は閉まっていました。木の隙間から太陽の光が床に届き、家具の角で折れて天井を震わせていた。テーブルの上のハエが、使用したグラスを這い上がり、サイダーの残りかすに身を任せて鳴いていた。煙突から入ってくる日の光は、暖炉の奥の煤をベルベット状にし、冷たい燃え殻を青く染めていました。窓と暖炉の間ではエマが裁縫をしていましたが、彼女はフィシューを着ておらず、裸の肩に小さな汗のしずくが見えました。

田舎の人のように、彼女は彼に何か飲まないかと言った。彼は断ったが、彼女は粘って、最後には笑いながら一緒にリキュールを飲もうと言った。彼女は戸棚からキュラソーの瓶を取ってきて、小さなグラスを2つ手に取り、1つにはいっぱいに注ぎ、もう1つにはほとんど何も入れず、グラスを鳴らした後、自分のグラスを口に運んだ。グラスがほとんど空になると、彼女は腰をかがめて飲み、頭を後ろに倒し、唇を尖らせ、首に力を入れていた。小さな歯の間に舌先を通し、グラスの底を一滴一滴舐めながら、彼女は何も得られないことを笑っていた。

彼女は再び座って仕事を始めた。白い綿のストッキングを編んでいた。彼女は頭を下げて仕事をしていた。彼女もチャールズも何も言わなかった。扉の下から入ってくる空気が、旗の上に小さな埃を吹き付けていました。チャールズはそれを眺めていましたが、頭の中の鼓動と、庭で卵を産んだ雌鶏のかすかな鳴き声以外は何も聞こえませんでした。エマは時折、手のひらで頬を冷やし、大きな焚き火台のツマミで再び頬を冷やした。

彼女は季節の初めからめまいに悩まされていることを訴え、海の湯が効くかどうかを尋ね、修道院やチャールズの学校の話を始め、言葉を交わした。二人は彼女の寝室に入りました。彼女は彼に、古い音楽本、彼女が獲得した小さな賞品、戸棚の底に残っていた樫の葉の冠を見せました。また、母のことや田舎のことを話し、毎月第一金曜日に母の墓に供えるための花を集めた庭のベッドも見せました。しかし、彼らが雇っていた庭師はそれについて何も知りませんでした。彼女は、冬の間だけでも町に住みたいと思っていましたが、夏になると日照時間の長さから田舎の方が疲れるかもしれません。彼女の声は、話の内容に応じて、はっきりとした鋭い声になったり、突然、物憂げな声になったりして、ほとんどつぶやきに近い形で転調しながら独り言を言っていました。今は楽しそうに、大きな天真爛漫な目を開いていますが、次にはまぶたを半分閉じて、その表情は退屈そうで、考え事をしています。

夜、家に帰ったチャールズは、彼女の言葉を一つ一つ確認しながら、思い出すために、意味を埋めるために、彼女と知り合う前に彼女が生きていた人生を再現しようとした。しかし、彼の頭の中には、最初に見た時と同じように、あるいは別れた時と同じように、彼女を見ることはできなかった。そして彼は、彼女がどうなるのか、結婚するのか、誰とするのかを考えた。しかし、残念ながら ルオー爺さんは金持ちだし、彼女は…とても美しい。しかし、彼の目の前にはいつもエマの顔が浮かび、彼の耳にはコマのハミングのような単調な音が聞こえてきた。という単調な声が聞こえてくる。夜になっても眠れず、喉がカラカラで、喉が渇いていた。喉がカラカラになり、喉が渇いた。夜は星に覆われ、遠くから暖かい風が吹いていて、犬が吠えている。彼はベルトーの方を向いていた。

失うものは何もないと考えたシャルルは、機会があればすぐにでも彼女に求婚しようと心に誓ったが、そのような機会が訪れるたびに、適切な言葉が見つからないという恐れが彼の唇を封じた。

ルオー老人は、家の中で何の役にも立たない娘がいなくなったことを残念に思わなかっただろう。心の中では、彼女は農業には向いていないと弁解していたが、農業は大富豪を見たことがないため、天罰が下る職業である。駆け引きが得意で、その中で商売の駆け引きを楽しむことができたとしても、一方で、いわゆる農業や農場の内部管理は、他の人よりも向いていなかったのです。彼はポケットから手を離さず、自分に関わることにはお金を惜しまず、よく食べ、よく焚き、よく寝ることを好みました。彼は、古いサイダー、過小評価されたマトンの脚、よく叩かれたグロリア[5]を好んだ。食事は台所で一人、火を挟んだ反対側で、舞台のように用意された小さなテーブルの上で取っていた。

[コーヒーとスピリッツを混ぜたものです。

そのため、シャルルが娘に近づくと頬が赤くなるのは、近日中にプロポーズをするという意味であることを察知した彼は、事前にそのことを考えていた。しかし、彼は育ちが良く、経済的で、非常に学識があると言われており、持参金に関してはあまり問題にならないだろうと考えていた。年老いたルオーは、間もなく22エーカーの「自分の財産」を売らざるを得なくなり、石工や馬具屋にも多額の借金があり、サイダー搾り機のシャフトも更新しなければならなかったので、「もし彼が彼女を求めてきたら、彼にあげよう」と自分に言い聞かせていた。

マイケルマスに、チャールズはベルトー家に3日間滞在しました。

前日は他の日と同じように、時間から時間へと先延ばしにしていた。ルオー爺さんが彼を見送っていた。二人はわだちの多い道を歩いていて、もうすぐ別れるところだった。今がその時だ。シャルルは生け垣の角まで身を乗り出し、ついにそれを過ぎたところで…。

“ムッシュー・ルオー” 彼はつぶやいた “君に言いたいことがあるんだ”

二人は立ち止まりました。シャルルは黙っていた。

“あなたの話を聞かせてください 私は全部知っているぞ」と老ルオーは優しく笑った。

“Monsieur Rouault-Monsieur Rouault” シャルルは口ごもった。

「老人は続けた。「この子も私の考えに賛同してくれるだろうが、やはり彼女の意見を聞かなければならない。君は降りてくれ、私は家に戻る。もし『イエス』なら、人がたくさんいるから戻らなくていいし、それに彼女の気を悪くするからね。でも、あなたが心を病まないように、壁に面した窓の外側のシャッターを大きく開けておきます。

そして、彼は去っていきました。

チャールズは馬を木につなぎ、道路に出て待っていました。30分が過ぎ、彼は時計で19分を数えました。突然、壁から物音が聞こえてきました。シャッターは戻されていて、フックはまだ揺れていました。

次の日、9時には農場に到着していた。彼が入ってくると、エマは顔を赤らめ、少し無理して笑って顔を引き締めた。ルオー爺さんは、将来の息子婿を抱きしめた。お金の話は後回しにして、シャルルが喪に服してからでないと、つまり翌年の春頃でないときちんとした結婚ができないので、時間はたっぷりあった。

冬の間はそれを待っていた。マドモアゼル・ルオーはトルソーの準備に追われていた。一部はルーアンで注文し、自分で借りたファッション・プレートを使ってシュミーズやナイトキャップを作っていました。シャルルが農家を訪ねると、結婚式の準備の話になり、どの部屋で夕食をとるか、必要な料理の数やメインディッシュは何にするかなど、夢想していた。

エマは逆に、松明を持って真夜中に結婚式をしたいと思っていたが、ルオー老人はそんな考えを理解できなかった。そうして43人の出席者が集まった結婚式では、16時間も食卓につき、翌日も、そしてその次の日も、ある程度の時間が過ぎていった。

第二章
ある夜、11時頃になると、家の前に馬がやってくる音で目が覚めました。召使がガレージの窓を開けると、下の通りにいた男としばらく話をしていた。彼は医者に会いに来ていて、手紙を持っていた。ナタジーは震えながら階下に降りてきて、鉄格子やボルトを次々と外していった。男は馬を置いて、使用人の後に続いて、突然彼女の後ろに入ってきた。彼は灰色の髷を結ったウールの帽子から、ボロ布に包まれた手紙を取り出し、それをそっとチャールズに差し出すと、チャールズは枕元に肘をついて読んでいた。ナタジーはベッドのそばに立って明かりを灯していました。マダムは謙遜して壁の方を向き、背中だけを見せていた。

この手紙は、青い蝋で小さな印を押したもので、ムッシュー・ボヴァリーが足の骨折を治すために、すぐにベルトー家の農場に来てほしいと懇願している。トーストからベルトー農場までは、ロングヴィルとサンヴィクトールを経由して18マイルの距離があった。暗い夜だったので、下級生のボヴァリー夫人は夫の事故を恐れていた。厩務員が先に出発し、シャルルは3時間後に月が昇ってから出発することにした。シャルルは3時間後に月が昇ってから出発することになり、少年を迎えに行かせ、農場への道を案内し、門を開けさせることになった。

朝の4時頃、シャルルはマントにしっかりと包まれて、ベルトーに向けて出発した。暖かなベッドで寝ていたためにまだ眠く、馬の静かな足取りに身を任せていました。その馬が、溝の縁に掘られた茨の穴の前で勝手に止まったとき、シャルルはハッと目を覚まし、突然、足の骨折を思い出し、自分が知っているすべての骨折を思い浮かべようとした。雨が止んで日が明け、葉の落ちた木の枝には、冷たい朝の風に小さな羽毛を揺らしながら、鳥たちが動かずにねぐらを作っていました。見渡す限り平坦な土地が広がり、農場の周りに長い間隔で生えている木々の房は、灰色の地表に濃い紫のシミのように見え、地平線上では空の暗闇に消えていきました。

チャールズは時々目を開けていたが、心が疲れてきたのか、すぐに眠りについた。最近の感覚と記憶が混ざり合い、学生と既婚者という二重の自分を意識し、今と同じようにベッドに横たわり、昔と同じように手術室を横切った。脳裏には湿布の暖かい匂いと露の新鮮な匂いが混じり合っていた。ベッドのカーテンロッドに沿って鉄のリングがガタガタと動く音が聞こえ、妻が眠っているのが見えた。ヴァッソンヴィルを過ぎたところで、溝の端の草むらに座っている少年に出会った。

「あなたは医者ですか？」と子供が尋ねた。

チャールズが答えると、彼は木靴を手に取り、彼の前を走っていった。

駆けつけた開業医は、ガイドの話から、ムッシュ・ルオーは裕福な農民の一人に違いないと思った。

前日の夜、近所の家で十二夜祭を行った帰りに足を骨折したという。妻とは死別して2年になる。妻とは2年前に死別しており、娘だけが家事を手伝っていた。

轍はますます深くなり、ベルトーに近づいていた。

小僧は生け垣の穴をすり抜けて姿を消し、中庭の端に戻ってきて門を開けた。馬は濡れた草の上で滑り、シャルルは枝の下を通るために身をかがめなければなりませんでした。犬小屋の番犬が鎖を引きずって吠えていた。ベルトー家に入ると、馬は驚いてよろけてしまった。

相当な規模の農場だった。厩舎では、開け放たれた扉の向こうに、大きな馬車の馬が新しいラックから静かに餌を食べているのが見える。外構に沿って大きなダンヒルが伸びており、そこからは糞尿がにじみ出ていた。鶏や七面鳥に混じって、ショーショワの農場では贅沢品である孔雀が5、6羽、その上で餌を食べていた。羊小屋は長く、納屋は高く、壁は手のひらのように滑らかでした。荷車小屋の下には、大きな荷車が2台と鋤が4台あり、鞭や軸、馬具も揃っていましたが、青い羊毛の毛皮は、穀倉から降ってくる細かい塵で汚れていました。中庭は上に向かって傾斜しており、左右対称に木が植えられており、池の近くではガチョウの群れのおしゃべりのような音が聞こえていました。

青いメリノ種のドレスに3つのフラウンスをつけた若い女性がドアの敷居に来てムッシュ・ボヴァリーを迎え、キッチンに案内すると、大きな火が燃えていました。台所では大きな火が燃えており、その傍らでは使用人の朝食が大小の小鍋で煮えていた。煙突の角には湿った服が干してありました。壁にはたくさんの鍋が吊るされていて、窓から差し込む太陽の光に混じって、囲炉裏の澄んだ炎が鏡のように揺れている。

チャールズは、患者に会いに1階に上がった。彼はベッドに寝ていて、綿のナイトキャップを放り投げて服の下に汗をかいていた。彼は50歳の太った小男で、白い肌と青い目をしており、頭の前部は禿げていて、イヤリングをしていた。傍らの椅子にはブランデーの入った大きなデカンタが置いてあり、彼は時々それを少しずつ注いで気分を高めていたが、医者を見るとすぐに高揚感が収まり、この12時間のように悪態をつくのではなく、自由にうめき始めた。

骨折は単純なもので、合併症のようなものはありませんでした。

チャールズにとっては、これ以上ないほど楽なケースだった。そして、患者のベッドサイドでの師匠たちの工夫を思い出し、あらゆる種類の親切な言葉で患者を慰めた。外科医の愛撫は、ビストロに塗る油のようなものだ。いくつかのスプリントを作るために、馬車小屋からラスの束が運ばれてきた。召使は包帯を作るためにシーツを破り、マドモアゼル・エマはパッドを縫おうとしていた。縫っているうちに指が刺さってしまい、それを口に当てて吸っていた。チャールズは、彼女の爪の白さに驚いた。爪は光沢があり、先端はディエップの象牙よりも繊細で、アーモンドのような形をしていました。しかし、彼女の手は美しくなかった。白さが足りず、指先が少し硬く、長すぎて輪郭に柔らかな抑揚がない。彼女の本当の美しさは、その目にありました。茶色ではあるが、まつ毛のせいで黒く見え、彼女の視線は率直で大胆なものであった。

包帯を巻いた後、医師はムッシュ・ルオー本人から、帰る前に「ちょっとだけ」と誘われた。

シャルルは、1階の部屋に降りていった。大きなベッドの足元にある小さなテーブルには、ナイフやフォーク、銀のゴブレットが2人分置かれており、天蓋にはトルコ人を表す人物がプリントされた綿が使われていた。窓の反対側にある大きなオーク材のチェストからは、アイリスルートと湿ったシーツの匂いがしていた。床の隅には、小麦粉の袋が直立して並んでいました。これは隣の穀物倉庫から流れてきたもので、そこには3段の石段がありました。アパートの装飾として、壁の中央に釘で吊るされていたのは、塩ペトルの影響で緑の塗料が剥げ落ちていたが、金の枠に入ったミネルバのクレヨンの頭で、その下にはゴシック体で「親愛なるパパへ」と書かれていた。

二人はまず患者の話をし、次に天気の話、大寒の話、夜の野原に出没する狼の話をした。

マドモアゼル・ルオーは田舎が全く好きではなかった。特に、ほとんど一人で農場の世話をしなければならなくなった。部屋が寒かったので、彼女は食事をしながら震えていた。そのため、彼女の唇はふっくらとしていて、黙っていると噛んでしまう癖があった。

彼女の首は、白い折り返した襟から浮き出ている。彼女の髪は、2本の黒いひだが1本のように見えるほど滑らかで、頭のカーブに合わせてわずかに湾曲した繊細なラインで真ん中で分けられ、耳の先端が見えるところで後ろで太いシニョンにまとめられています。彼女の頬の上の部分は、バラ色でした。彼女は男性のように、ボディスの2つのボタンの間に亀の殻の眼鏡を突っ込んでいました。

シャルルがルオーに別れを告げて部屋に戻ると、彼女は窓に額をつけて立っており、風で豆の支柱が倒れた庭を見ていた。彼女は振り返りました。「何かお探しですか」と尋ねた。

「鞭をお探しですか」と彼は答えた。

彼はベッドの上、ドアの後ろ、椅子の下などを探し始めた。鞭は、袋と壁の間の床に落ちていた。マドモアゼル・エマはそれを見て、小麦粉の袋の上に身をかがめました。

シャルルも礼儀として急いだが、腕を伸ばした瞬間、自分の下に屈んでいた若い娘の背中に胸が当たった。彼女は顔を真っ赤にして立ち上がり、鞭を渡しながら肩越しに彼を見ていた。

彼は約束した3日後にベルトーに戻るのではなく、翌日には戻り、その後は週に2回のペースで定期的に通い、時々偶然に訪れることも数えなかった。

すべてが順調に進み、患者の経過も順調で、46日目にルオー老人が「巣穴」で一人で歩こうとしているのを見て、ムッシュ・ボヴァリーは能力の高い人だと思われるようになったのである。ルオー老人は、イヴェットやルーアンの最初の医者でもこれ以上の治療はできなかったと言っている。

シャルルは、なぜ自分がベルトーに行くのが楽しいのか、自問自答しなかった。もしそうしていたら、彼は間違いなく、その熱心さを事件の重要性、あるいはそれによって得られる金のためだと考えていただろう。しかし、彼の農場への訪問は、彼のささやかな生活の楽しい例外となっていた。この日、彼は早起きして、馬を駆り立てて疾走し、草むらで靴を拭いて黒い手袋をはめてから家に入った。中庭に入ると、門が自分の肩に背を向けて回っているのに気付き、壁の上で鶏が鳴き、若者たちが自分を迎えに来るのが好きだった。穀物倉庫や馬小屋も好きだったし、手を握って自分を救世主と呼んでくれたルオー爺さんも好きだったし、台所の洗礼された旗の上に置かれたマドモアゼル・エマの小さな木靴も好きだった。

彼女はいつも彼と一緒に階段の一歩目を踏み出した。彼の馬がまだ回ってきていないときは、彼女はそこにいた。二人は「さようなら」と言って、それ以上話すことはなかった。外気が彼女を包み込み、首の後ろの柔らかい羽毛で遊んだり、エプロンの紐を腰に当てて吹き飛ばしたりして、それがストリーマーのように舞っていた。庭の木の皮がにじみ、外壁の屋根に積もった雪が溶けていく雪解けの時期に、彼女は敷居の上に立ち、日よけを取りに行ってそれを開けた。鳩の胸のような色をした絹の日よけは、太陽の光を受けて、彼女の顔の白い肌を色とりどりに照らし出した。優しい暖かさの中で彼女が微笑むと、伸びた絹の上に水滴が次々と落ちる音が聞こえてきた。

シャルルがベルトー家を訪れた最初の期間、ジュニア・ボヴァリー夫人は病人の様子を尋ねることを怠らず、二重記入方式で保管している帳簿には、ムッシュ・ルオーのために空白のページを選んでいた。しかし、ルオー氏に娘がいると聞いて調べてみると、マドモアゼル・ルオーはアーシュリン修道院で育ち、いわゆる「良い教育」を受けていて、ダンス、地理、絵、刺繍、ピアノなどの知識を持っていることがわかったのです。これが最後の砦となった。

「彼女に会いに行ったときの彼の顔は輝いていたし、雨で濡れてもいいからと新しいコートを着ていた。ああ、あの女！あの女！あの女！」。

彼女は本能的に彼女を嫌っていた。彼女は最初、チャールズが理解できない暗示で自分を慰め、次に、嵐を恐れて通り過ぎてしまった何気ない観察で自分を慰め、最後に、彼が何と答えていいかわからないオープンアポストロフィーで自分を慰めました。”ルオーさんが治ったのに なぜベルトー家に戻ったの？” “お金を払っていないのに？それは、若い女性がそこにいたからだ。話術や刺繍、気の利いたことを知っている人がいたからだ。彼はそれを気にしていたのよ、町のお嬢さんが欲しかったのよ」。そして彼女はこう続けました。

“ルオーの娘が町娘？出て行け！」。彼らの祖父は羊飼いで、いとこには喧嘩でひどい目に遭って検閲にかけられそうになった人がいるのよ。伯爵夫人のようにシルクのガウンを着て 教会に行っても意味がないわ それに、もし去年のコルザがなければ、あのかわいそうなおじいさんは、滞納金を払うのに大わらわだったでしょうね」。

シャルルは疲れのあまり、ベルトー家へ行くのをやめてしまった。ヘロイーズは彼に、祈りの書に手を置いて、「もう二度とベルトーには行かない」と誓わせた。彼はそれに従ったが、自分の欲望の強さが自分の行動の従順さに抗議し、彼女に会うことを禁止されたことで、彼女を愛する権利のようなものが得られたと、ある種の素朴な偽善をもって考えていた。そして、未亡人は痩せていて、歯が長く、どんな天候でも肩甲骨の間に黒い小さなショールの端を垂らしていました。

シャルルの母も時々見に来ていましたが、数日後には嫁の方が彼女に刃を向けたようで、2本のナイフのように、考察や観察で彼に傷をつけていました。あんなに食べるのは悪いことだ。

どうして来た人には必ず何かを一杯差し出すの？頑固なまでにネルシャツを着ない。春になって、デュブク未亡人の財産を管理していたイングービルの公証人が、ある晴れた日に事務所のお金を全部持って出て行ってしまった。ヘロワーズは、6,000フランの船の株の他に、サンフランソワ通りの家を所有していたが、海外で騒がれているこれだけの財産があっても、わずかな家具や服を除いては、家には何も現れなかった。この問題は調査しなければなりませんでした。ディエップの家は根底に抵当権があることがわかりました。彼女が公証人に預けたものは神のみぞ知るであり、船の取り分は千クローナを超えませんでした。彼女は嘘をついていたのだ！善良な女性が 長男のボヴァリー氏は憤慨して、椅子を旗にぶつけながら、妻が息子をこんな醜い女と結婚させて不幸にしたと非難した。彼らはトステスのもとにやってきた。釈明が続いた。シーンもあった。ヘロイーズは泣きながら夫に抱きつき、夫の両親から自分を守ってほしいと懇願した。

シャルルは彼女の気持ちを代弁しようとした。二人は怒って家を出た。

しかし、「その一撃は家を襲った」のである。翌日、チャールズが窓のカーテンを引いて彼女に背を向けている間に、彼女は「ああ、神様！」と言って、ため息をついて気絶した。死んでいたのだ。驚いた。墓地での作業が終わり、チャールズは家に帰った。階下には誰もいなかった。1階の彼らの部屋に行くと、床の間の足元に彼女のドレスがまだかかっていた。書斎のテーブルにもたれて、夕方まで悲嘆にくれていた。結局、彼女は彼を愛していたのだ。

第一章
私たちが授業を受けていると、校長が入ってきた。制服を着ていない「新入り」と、大きな机を持った給仕が続いた。眠っていた者は目を覚まし、誰もが自分の仕事に驚いたように立ち上がった。

校長は私たちに座るように合図した。そして、学級委員に向かって、低い声でこう言った。

「ムッシュー・ロジェ、あなたに推薦する生徒がいます、彼は2番目に入ります。彼は2番目のクラスに入ります。彼の仕事と行動が満足のいくものであれば、彼は年齢に応じて上のクラスのいずれかに入ることになります」。

「新しい仲間」は、ドアの後ろの隅に立っていて、ほとんど見えなかったが、15歳くらいの田舎の若者で、私たちの誰よりも背が高かった。髪は村の合唱団員のように額を四角く切っていて、頼りがいがありそうだが、とても落ち着きがない。肩幅は広くありませんでしたが、緑の布に黒いボタンが付いた短いスクールジャケットは、腕の穴が窮屈だったに違いありませんし、袖口からは裸に慣れている赤い手首が見えていました。青いストッキングを履いた足は、ブレースで締め付けられた黄色いズボンの下から覗いていたし、がっしりした、掃除の行き届いていない蹄鉄付きのブーツを履いていた。

私たちはレッスンの繰り返しを始めた。2時になってベルが鳴ると、親方は仕方なく彼に他の人たちと一緒に並ぶように言った。

2時のベルが鳴ると、親方は彼に他の者と一緒に並ぶように言わなければならなかった。仕事に戻ると、両手を自由に使えるように帽子を地面に投げる習慣があり、ドアから帽子をフォームの下に投げて、壁にぶつけて大量の埃を出していた。

しかし、その仕掛けに気づかなかったのか、それともあえてやろうとしなかったのか、「新入り」は祈りが終わっても帽子を膝の上に置いたままだった。それは、クマの皮、シャコ、ビリーコックハット、アザラシの皮の帽子、綿のナイトキャップなどの痕跡を見つけることができる、複合的な順序のヘッドギアの一つであり、つまり、その間抜けな醜さが、愚か者の顔のように表現の深さを持つ、かわいそうなものの一つであった。鯨の骨で固められた楕円形の帽子は、3つの丸いつまみから始まり、ベルベットとウサギの皮の紋章が赤い帯で区切られ、その後、袋のようなものが続き、最後は複雑な編み込みで覆われた厚紙の多角形で終わり、長い細い紐の先には、房のように小さな金糸をねじったものがぶら下がっていました。帽子は新しいもので、鍔が光っていた。

「起立」 先生は言った。

彼は立ち上がったが、帽子が落ちてしまった。クラス全員が笑い始めた。彼はそれを拾おうと身をかがめた。近所の人が肘で帽子を落としたので、彼はもう一度拾い上げた。

「兜を捨てろ」と、ちょっと気の利いた先生が言いました。

少年たちから笑い声が上がり、哀れな少年は顔色を失い、帽子を手に持ったままにしていいのか、地面に置いたままにしていいのか、頭の上に乗せていいのか分からなくなったのです。彼は再び座って、膝の上に帽子を置いた。

「立ち上がって、自分の名前を教えてくれ 」と主人は繰り返した。

新入生は、意味不明な名前を口ごもりながらも口にした。

「もう一度！」

同じような音節が飛び交い、クラスの人々の笑い声にかき消されてしまった。

「もっと大きな声で！」と師匠は叫んだ。

「新人」は一念発起して、非常に大きな口を開け、まるで誰かを呼ぶかのように声高に「シャルボバリ」と叫んだのである。

騒動が起こり、クレッシェンドのように高まり、「シャルボバリ！シャルボバリ！」と叫んだり、吠えたり、踏み鳴らしたり、繰り返したりしていたが、やがて単音になり、大変な苦労をして静かになっていき、時折、突然、形に沿って再開し、そこかしこで湿ったクラッカーが鳴るように、押し殺した笑い声が上がった。

師匠は「シャルル・ボヴァリー」の名前を聞き取ることに成功し、それを口述して綴り、読み直してもらった後、すぐにこの哀れな悪魔に、師匠の机の足元にある懲罰用紙の上に座るように命じた。彼は立ち上がったが、行く前に躊躇した。

「何を探しているんだ？」 教師は尋ねた。

「私のボ・ウ・シ」とおそるおそる言った 「新入り 」は、困った顔をしていた。

「クラス全員に500行！」と激しい声で叫ぶと、「クオス・エゴ」のように、新たな爆発が起こった。帽子から取り出したハンカチで眉間をぬぐいながら、「黙れ！」と師匠は憤慨して続けた。新入生のお前には、「私は馬鹿げている」を20回活用させる」。

そして、優しい口調で「さあ、また帽子が見つかるよ、盗まれていないんだから」と言った。

静けさが戻った。机の上に頭をかがめて、「新入り」は2時間ほど模範的な態度でいましたが、時折ペンの先から飛び出した紙片が顔にぶつかってきました。しかし、彼は片手で顔を拭い、目を伏せてじっとしていた。

夕方の準備時間になると、机からペンを取り出し、小物を並べ、丁寧に罫線を引いていく。辞書を片っ端から調べ、細心の注意を払って仕事をしている姿が見られた。このような彼の意欲のおかげで、彼は下のクラスに行かなくて済んだのだろう。しかし、規則は一応知っていても、作文はほとんどできなかった。彼に初めてラテン語を教えたのは、村の治療師だった。彼の両親は経済的な理由から、彼をできるだけ遅くまで学校に通わせていた。

彼の父、ムッシュー・シャルル・ドニ・バルトロメ・ボヴァリーは、1812年頃、ある徴兵制スキャンダルで危険な目に遭い、退役を余儀なくされた元外科医助手で、その優れた体格を生かして、彼の美貌に惚れ込んだ法師の娘から6万フランの持参金を得た。立派な男で、話好きで、歩くたびに拍車をかけ、口ひげのようなひげをはやし、指にはいつも指輪をはめ、派手な色の服を着て、軍人のような威勢の良さと商売人のような気楽さを兼ね備えていた。

結婚すると、3、4年は妻の財産で生活し、よく食べ、遅くまで起き、長い磁器パイプを吸い、夜は劇場が終わるまで帰らず、カフェに出没していた。義理の父が亡くなり、ほとんど何も残らなかったので、彼はこれに憤慨し、「商売に乗り出し」、多少の損をした後、金儲けができると思って田舎に引っ込んだ。

しかし、彼は農業のことをキャラコほども知らず、馬を耕す代わりに馬に乗り、サイダーを樽で売る代わりに瓶で飲み、農場で最高級の家禽を食べ、豚の脂肪で狩猟靴に油を塗っていたので、すぐに投機をやめた方がいいと気がついた。

年収200フランで、コー県とピカルディ県の境にある農場と民家を半々にしたような場所に住むことができたが、ここで酸欠になり、後悔に苛まれ、運を呪い、人を妬み、45歳で閉じこもった。

彼の妻はかつて彼を愛していたが、彼女は彼を退屈させ、何度も奉仕活動を行い、彼とはますます疎遠になっていった。かつては活発で、活発で、愛情深かった彼女は、年をとるにつれ、（空気に触れると酢になるワインのように）気性が荒くなり、不平不満が多くなり、イライラするようになりました。最初は文句も言わずに苦しんでいたが、彼が村の貧乏人を追いかけているように見えるようになり、何軒もの悪い家で彼が疲れて悪臭を放ちながら夜な夜な彼女のもとに戻ってくるようになるまでは、そうなってしまった。その時、彼女のプライドが傷ついた。それ以来、彼女は沈黙し、死ぬまで怒りをおぼろげなストイシズムに封じ込めていた。彼女は常に仕事の世話をしていた。彼女は弁護士や社長に電話をかけ、請求書の期限を覚えておいて更新し、家ではアイロンや裁縫、洗濯、職人の世話、会計などをしていましたが、彼は何の悩みもなく、いつまでも眠い不機嫌さに悩まされ、彼女に嫌なことを言うためだけに起き上がり、火のそばで煙草を吸い、燃えかすに唾を吐いていました。

彼女に子供が生まれると、その子は外で養育しなければなりませんでした。帰宅すると、その子はまるで王子様のように甘やかされました。母はジャムを詰め込み、父は裸足で走り回らせ、哲学者気取りで「動物の子供のように裸で歩いた方がいい」とまで言った。母性的な考えとは対照的に、父は幼少期のある種の男らしい考えを持っており、それに基づいて息子を形成しようとしていた。彼は息子を火を使わずに寝かせ、大量のラム酒を飲み干し、宗教的な行列を嘲笑するように教えた。しかし、元来、平和主義者であるこの子は、彼の考えにはほとんど答えなかった。母はいつも彼のそばにいて、彼のために厚紙を切り、物語を語り、憂鬱な陽気さと魅力的なナンセンスさに満ちた無限の独白で彼を楽しませた。孤独な生活の中で、彼女は自分の粉々に壊れた小さな虚栄心をすべてこの子の頭の上に集中させた。彼女は高い地位を夢見ていました。背が高く、ハンサムで、賢い彼がエンジニアか法律家になるのをすでに見ていたのです。彼女は彼に読み書きを教え、古いピアノで2、3曲の小さな歌を教えていた。しかし、ムッシュ・ボヴァリーは、手紙にはほとんど興味がなく、「そんなことをしても意味がない」と言った。この子を公立の学校に通わせたり、お稽古事をさせたり、商売を始めさせたりするだけのお金があるだろうか。それに、「人は頬を出せば必ず出世するものです」 ボヴァリー夫人が唇を噛むと、子供は村を歩き回りました。

彼は労働者を追いかけ、飛んでいるカラスを土で追い払いました。垣根の上のブラックベリーを食べ、長いスイッチでガチョウの世話をし、収穫期には干し草を作り、森の中を駆け回り、雨の日には教会のポーチの下でチョコチョコと遊び、大祭の時には揺りかごにお願いして鐘を撞かせてもらい、長いロープに全体重をかけて、その揺りかごに乗せられて上へ上へと運ばれていくのを感じました。そうこうしているうちに、彼は樫の木のように成長し、手に力があり、色も新鮮だった。

彼が12歳になると、母は独自の方法で彼のレッスンを始めた。しかし、そのレッスンはあまりにも短く、不定期だったので、あまり役に立たなかった。聖具室の空き時間に、洗礼と埋葬の間に急いで立ち上がって行われた。あるいは、外出しなければならないキュレは、夕べの祈りの後に弟子を送り込んだ。二人は彼の部屋に上がり、腰を落ち着けた。ハエや蛾がロウソクの周りを飛び回っていた。近くなって、子供は眠りにつき、善良な男性は、お腹に手を当ててうとうとし始め、すぐに口を大きく開けていびきをかいていた。他にも、ムッシュー・ル・クレが近所の病人にヴィアチカムを投与した帰り道に、シャルルが野原で遊んでいるのを見つけて彼を呼び、25分ほど説教したり、木の下で動詞の活用をさせたりしたこともあった。雨で中断されたり、知人が通り過ぎたりしたこともあった。しかし、彼はいつも彼に満足しており、「この青年」は非常に良い記憶力を持っているとさえ言っていた。

シャルルはこのままではいけない。ボヴァリー夫人は力強い歩みを見せた。恥ずかしいというか、疲れたというか、ムッシュー・ボヴァリーは何の抵抗もなく降参し、子供が初聖体を受けるために、あと1年待つことになった。

その翌年、シャルルはついにルーアンの学校に通うことになった。父が彼を連れて行ったのは、サン・ロマン祭が開催される10月末のことだった。

今となっては、誰も彼のことを覚えていないだろう。彼は穏やかな性格の青年で、遊びの時間には遊び、学校の時間には働き、授業には熱心で、寮ではよく眠り、食堂ではよく食べた。彼にはガンテリー通りにある卸売りの鉄工所が親代わりになっていて、月に一度、日曜日に店を閉めた後に彼を連れ出し、岸壁を散歩させて船を見に行かせ、夕食前の7時に大学に連れ戻していました。毎週木曜日の夜には、赤インクと3枚のウエハースを使って母親に長い手紙を書き、それから歴史のノートに目を通したり、書斎に転がっていた『アナーカシス』の古い本を読んだりした。散歩に出ると、自分と同じように田舎から出てきた召使と話をした。

努力の甲斐あって、彼は常にクラスの真ん中あたりをキープし、一度は博物学の資格を取ったこともあった。しかし、3年生の終わりに、両親は彼を学校から退学させ、医学を学ばせた。

母は、知り合いの染物屋の4階に、オードロベックを見下ろせる部屋を選んだ。母親は彼の食事の手配をし、家具、テーブル、椅子2脚を用意し、古い桜の木のベッドステッドを家に送り、小さな鋳鉄製のストーブと、哀れな子供を暖めるための薪を買った。

そして1週間後、彼女は、彼が一人になるのだから良い子にしているようにと何度も言い聞かせて出発した。

解剖学の講義、病理学の講義、生理学の講義、薬学の講義、植物学の講義、臨床医学の講義、治療学の講義、衛生学と医学書を除いて、これらはすべて語源を知らない名前であり、彼にとっては壮大な闇に満ちた聖域への多くの扉のようなものだった。

彼はそのすべてを理解していなかった。聞くのはいいが、従うことはしなかった。それでも彼は働いた。綴じたノートを持ち、すべてのコースに出席し、一度も講義を欠席したことはなかった。彼は毎日の小さな仕事を、目に包帯を巻いて何の仕事をしているのかわからずにぐるぐる回る馬のようにこなしていた。

彼の費用を節約するために、彼の母親は毎週、オーブンで焼いた子牛の肉をキャリアーで彼に送り、彼は病院から戻ると、壁に足を蹴って座りながら、その肉で昼食をとった。この後、彼は講義、手術室、病院、そして町の反対側にある自宅へと駆け足で帰らなければならなかった。夕方、大家さんの粗末な夕食が終わると、彼は部屋に戻って、濡れた服を着て、熱いストーブの前に座って煙を出しながら、また仕事を始めた。

夏の晴れた日の夕方、通りに人がいなくなり、使用人たちがドアで羽根つきをしている頃、彼は窓を開けて外に身を乗り出した。ルーアンのこの地区を哀れな小さなベニスにしている川が、彼の下を、橋と手すりの間を、黄色、紫、または青で流れている。土手にひざまずいた労働者たちは、裸の腕を水で洗っていた。屋根裏から突き出た柱の上では、綿の糸が空気中で乾燥している。その反対側、根っこの向こう側には、赤い太陽が沈む清らかな天が広がっている。家に帰ったらどんなに気持ちがいいだろう。ブナの木の下はなんて新鮮なんだろう。そして、彼は鼻の穴を広げて、自分には届かない国の甘い香りを吸い込んだ。

彼は痩せて、背が高くなり、その顔は悲しげな表情をしていて、それが面白みになっていた。当然のことながら、彼は無関心のうちに、それまでの決意をすべて捨ててしまった。一度は講義を欠席し、次の日には全ての講義を欠席し、怠惰を楽しみながら、少しずつ仕事を放棄していった。彼はパブに行くのが習慣となり、ドミノゲームに熱中した。毎晩、汚い公会堂に閉じこもり、大理石のテーブルの上に黒い点のついた小さな羊の骨を押し並べることは、彼にとって自由の立派な証明であり、自分自身の評価を高めるものでした。彼は人生を見始めており、盗まれた喜びの甘さを感じていました。そして、彼の中に隠されていた多くのものが出てきました。彼は、連句を暗記して、自慢の仲間に歌ったり、ベランジェに熱中したり、パンチの作り方を学んだり、最後には、愛の作り方を学んだりしました。

このような準備運動のおかげで、彼は普通科の試験に完全に落ちてしまった。彼はその日の夜、家に帰って成功を祝うことになっていた。彼は徒歩で出発し、村の始まりに立ち寄り、母親を呼び寄せてすべてを話した。母は彼を許し、彼の失敗を試験官の不正のせいにして、彼を少しだけ励まし、自ら問題を解決しようとした。ムッシュー・ボヴァリーが真実を知ったのは、それから5年後のことだった。彼は、自分から生まれた男が愚か者であるとは信じられなかった。

そこでシャルルは再び仕事に取り掛かり、試験のために詰め込み、昔の問題をひたすら暗記していった。そして、無事に合格することができました。彼の母親にとっては、何と幸せな日だろう。盛大な夕食が用意された。

どこに練習に行こうか？トステスに行ってみよう、そこには年老いた医者が一人だけいた。ボヴァリー夫人はずっと彼の死を警戒していたが、シャルルが彼の代わりに後継者として就任した時には、彼の老いた姿はほとんど消えていた。

しかし、息子を育て、医学を教え、実践の場であるトステスを発見させただけでは不十分で、妻が必要だった。彼女は、ディエップの廷臣の未亡人で、45歳で1200フランの収入がある人を見つけた。骨のように乾燥した醜い顔に、春の芽のようにたくさんのニキビができていたが、デュブク夫人には求婚者が絶えなかった。目的を達成するためには、ボヴァリー夫人はすべての人を排除しなければならなかったが、神父たちに支えられた豚の肉屋の陰謀を巧みに阻止することにも成功した。

シャルルは、結婚することで、より楽な生活が送れると考えていた。しかし、彼は妻が主人であり、会社ではあれを言ったり、これを言ったりしてはならず、毎週金曜日は断食し、彼女の好きな服を着て、お金を払わない患者には彼女の言いなりになって嫌がらせをしなければならなかった。彼女は彼の手紙を開き、彼の出入りを見守り、女性が彼の手術の相談に来るのを壁の仕切りで聞いていた。

彼女は毎朝チョコレートを食べなければならないし、注意も尽きない。彼女は常に神経、胸、肝臓の不調を訴えていた。足音で気分が悪くなり、人が去っていくと孤独が嫌になり、戻ってくるとしたら自分が死ぬのを見るためだと思った。夕方、チャールズが戻ってくると、彼女はシーツの下から細長い2本の腕を伸ばして彼の首に巻きつけ、ベッドの端に座らせると、自分の悩みを話し始めた。「彼は自分を軽視していて、他の人を愛している。彼は自分を無視している、彼は他の人を愛している、彼女は不幸になると警告されていた、そして彼女は彼に薬ともう少しの愛を求めて終わりました。

I don’t directly know the madman who wrote this memoir. However, I do know the person who appears in the journal, who may be the madam of the kyobashi stand-bar. She was small, pale, with narrow, upturned eyes and a high nose, and looked more like a beautiful young man than a beautiful woman. It seems that this memoir mainly describes the scenery of Tokyo in those days of 1930s, 1960s and 1970s, but it was around the 10th year of the Showa era, when the “military” of Japan was beginning to be exposed explicitly, that my friend took me to the stand bar of kyobashi a couple of times to drink highballs. It was around the 10th year of the Showa era, when the Japanese “military” was beginning to be exposed, so I was unable to meet the man who wrote this memoir.
　However, in February of this year, I visited a friend who had evacuated to Funabashi City in Chiba Prefecture. In fact, I had asked my friend to arrange a marriage for one of my relatives, so I thought I would buy some fresh seafood for my family to eat. I went to Funabashi City with a backpack on my back.
　Funabashi City was a rather large city facing the muddy sea. It was not easy to find the house of my friend, a new resident, even if I asked the locals for the address. It was cold and my shoulders ached from carrying my backpack, so I pushed open the door of a coffee shop, attracted by the sound of a record on a harp.
　I felt familiar with the madam there, and when I asked her, I found out that she was the little old lady from kyobashi ten years ago. She seemed to remember me right away, and we both exaggeratedly surprised and laughed. Then, as usual in such situations, we talked about our experiences of being burned out in air raids, as if we were proud of each other, even though we were not asked.
“You, however, have not changed.
“No, I’m an old woman. No, I’m an old woman now, my body is in shape. No, I’m an old woman.
“No, I have three more children. I’m going shopping for them today.
　We exchanged the usual greetings of people who have not seen each other for a long time, and then we asked each other what had happened to our mutual acquaintances. Then, suddenly, Madame changed her tone and asked me if I knew Ip-chan. When I replied that I didn’t know her, she went to the back of the room, brought me three notebooks and a picture of Mitsuba, and handed them to me.
“She handed me three notebooks and a photo of Miho.
　He said.
　I’m not one to write with material forced upon me by others, so I was about to give them back immediately, but I was so fascinated by the photo (I’ve already written about the strangeness of the photo of the three leaves on the postcard) that I decided to leave the notebooks with him anyway. I asked her if she knew where the professor of the women’s college lived, and she said she did. She said she sometimes came to this coffee shop. It was just around the corner.
　That night, after sharing a few drinks with my friend, we decided to have him stay with us, and I stayed up all night reading Rei’s notebook.
　I stayed up all night and read through Rei’s notebooks. The stories in the journal were from the past, but I’m sure they would be of great interest to people today. It seemed to me that it would be more meaningful to ask some magazine to publish the story rather than adding my own handwriting to it.
　The only marine products I brought back for the children were dried fish. I left my friend’s place with my backpack on my back, stopped by a coffee shop and said
I stopped by Rei’s coffee shop and said, “Thanks for your help last night. By the way, ……”.
　I immediately started with
“I was wondering if I could borrow this notebook for a while.
“Yes, please.
“Is this man still alive?
“Well, that’s the thing, I have no idea. About ten years ago, a parcel containing the notebook and photos was sent to the kyobashi store, and the sender was supposed to be Ip-chan, but there was no address or even name on the parcel. During the air raid, it was lost among other things, and I was strangely saved by it.
“Did you cry?
“No, not crying. …… No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.
“It’s been ten years since then, so he’s probably dead by now. I’m sure he sent this to you as a thank you. It may have been an exaggeration, but it seems that you have suffered a great deal of damage. If all of this were true, and if I were his friend, I would have wanted to take him to a brain hospital.
“It’s her father’s fault, you know.
　He said casually.
“The Ip-chan we knew was a very honest, good-natured girl, who, if she hadn’t been drinking, would have been a …… god-like good girl.

“One.”

　One of Takeichi’s predictions came true and one did not. One of Takeichi’s prophecies came true, and one did not. The unhonorable prophecy that he would be loved came true, but the blessed prophecy that he would become a great painter did not.
　I was only able to become an obscure and inferior cartoonist for an inferior magazine.
　Because of the incident in Kamakura, I was expelled from high school, and I slept and slept in a three-mat room on the second floor of Hirame’s house. Hirame was always in a foul mood and never laughed when she smiled at him. The change was so terrible that it was almost ridiculous.
You can’t leave,” he said. Anyway, please don’t go out.
　That’s all she said to herself.
　Hirame seemed to think that he was in danger of committing suicide, that is, that he was in danger of jumping back into the sea after the woman, so he strictly forbade himself to go out. But I couldn’t drink or smoke, and I was living like an idiot from morning to night, huddled under a three-tatami kotatsu on the second floor, reading old magazines.
　Hirame’s house was located near the medical school in Okubo, and although the signboard read “Seiryuen,” a calligraphic and antique dealer, it was one of two houses in one building, with a narrow frontage, a dusty interior, and a lot of inappropriate junk (although Hirame did not rely on the junk in the store to do business). The store was full of dust, and it was full of junk. (However, Hirame does not rely on the junk in the shop for her business, but she makes money by taking an active part in cases where she has to hand over the ownership of the so-called husband’s treasured items to the so-called husband over there. Whenever he had a spare moment, he would play catch with the neighborhood kids outside, but he seemed to think that the upstairs tenant was either a fool or a lunatic. He listened and obeyed with a tired and impressed look on his face. The boy was Shibuta’s illegitimate son, and yet for some strange reason, Shibuta had never claimed to be his son or daughter, and there seemed to be a reason why Shibuta had always been single. I had heard some rumors about it from my own family, but I don’t know anything about it because I’m not really interested in other people’s affairs. I don’t know anything about it because I’m not really interested in what happens to other people. However, there was something about the boy’s eyes that reminded me of the eyes of a fish, or maybe he really was Hirame’s illegitimate son. Sometimes, late at night, the two of them would order soba noodles and eat them together in silence, without telling the person upstairs.
　At Hirame’s house, the little boy always prepared the meals, and only the meals for the troublesome people upstairs were put on separate plates and brought upstairs by the little boy three times a day.
　One evening at the end of March, Hirame had either found an unexpected windfall or had some other trick up her sleeve (even if both of these two guesses were correct, there were probably several more reasons that I could not have guessed). He invited himself downstairs to the dining table, which was unusually furnished with a choshi (sake bottle), admired and praised the tuna sashimi, not Hirame, and offered a little sake to the absent-minded housemate.
“What are you going to do now, exactly?
　Instead of answering, I picked up a tatami sardine from a plate on the table and looked at the silvery eyes of the little fish.
　Since I had come to this house, I had not had the heart to play the role of a clown, and I had just laid myself down in the scorn of Hirame and the boy, and Hirame seemed to be avoiding talking to me at length, and I had no desire to go after Hirame to complain about anything.
I was almost like a dunce in the house. “Deferred prosecution doesn’t mean a criminal record or anything like that. So, well, you can be rehabilitated by your mind. If you change your mind and seriously ask me for advice, I’ll think about it.
　Hirame’s way of speaking, and indeed, the way all people in the world speak, has this complicated, somewhat dazed, fugitive, subtle complexity to it. I was always bewildered and felt like I didn’t care, so I would make fun of them with clownishness or leave them to their own devices with a silent nod.
　In later years, I learned that all Hirame had to do was simply report to me as follows, and I felt depressed at her unnecessary caution, and at the incomprehensible vanity of the people of the world.
　All Hirame had to do at that moment was to say, “I don’t care if it’s government or private.
All Hirame had to say at that time was, “Go to any school, government or private, from April. Your living expenses are supposed to be more than enough to pay for your schooling.
　I found out much later that that was the way it was supposed to be. And I would have followed the instructions. But because of Hirame’s cautious and roundabout way of saying things, things got strangely complicated and my direction in life changed.
“I can’t help it if you don’t feel like coming to me for advice.
“What kind of advice?”
　I really had no idea what I was talking about.
“That’s what’s on your mind, isn’t it?
“Like what?
“Like, what are you going to do with yourself?
“Do you want me to work?
“No, I mean, what are you thinking about?
“I mean, I’m going to school. ……
“Yes, I need money. But the problem is not money. It’s your feelings.
　Why didn’t he just say, “The money is supposed to come from your country. That one word should have set my mind, but I was in a fog.
“What do you think?　Do you have any kind of hope for the future?　Thank you very much, you have no idea how difficult it is to take care of one person.
“I’m sorry.
“I’m really worried about you. Now that I’ve taken care of you, I don’t want you to be half-hearted either. I want you to show me how determined you are to follow the path of rehabilitation. For example, if you were to ask me for serious advice about your future plans, I would be willing to give you that advice. Since this is the assistance of poor Hirame, it would be a mistake to expect the same luxury as before. However, if you are firm in your mind and have a clear plan for the future, and if you come to me for advice, I am willing to help you with your rehabilitation, even if it is only a small amount. Do you understand?　Do you understand how I feel? What are you going to do now?
“If they don’t put me upstairs here, I’m going to work at …….
“Are you really saying that?　In today’s world, even if you graduate from the Imperial College, you’ll still have to work at …….
“No, I’m not going to be a salaryman.
“What are you then?
“I’m a painter.
　I said it boldly.
“Huh?”
　I couldn’t forget the sly look on Hirame’s face as she laughed with her neck wrinkled. It was like a shadow of disdain, but differently, if the world were an ocean, there would be a strange shadow hovering in the depths of the ocean, like a glimpse into the depths of an adult’s life.
　I went upstairs as if I were being chased and went to bed, but no thought came to me. I went upstairs as if I were being chased.
　I am sure I will return in the evening. I will go to the friend on the left to consult with him about my future plans, so don’t worry. Don’t worry.
　I then wrote down Masao Horiki’s name and address in Asakusa and secretly left Hirame’s house.
　I didn’t run away from Hirame because I was annoyed that she lectured me. As Hirame had said, I was a man without a strong will, and I had no idea what I would do in the future, and it would be a pity for Hirame to have me in trouble with her. And if I should ever get the urge to get inspired and make up my mind, it would be a painful and uncomfortable feeling to think that I would have to get monthly support from that poor Hirame.
　However, I had not left Hirame’s house with the intention of going to Horiki for advice on my so-called “future plans”. Rather, I wrote the letter to reassure Hirame, even if it was only for a short while (I wrote the letter out of a detective story-like ploy to get as far away from Hirame as possible in the meantime. It would be more accurate to say that I was afraid of shocking Hirame and confusing him. It was one of my sad habits to always put on some kind of decoration, because I was afraid of telling the truth, even though it was bound to be found out anyway. Even though I knew that the change in the atmosphere was chokingly horrible and would be detrimental to me later, my “desperate service” was distorted, weak, and ridiculous. At that time, I just wrote Horiki’s name and address on a piece of paper as it came to me from the bottom of my memory.
　I left Hirame’s house, walked to Shinjuku, sold the books in my pocket, and was still at a loss. Aside from playmates like Horiki, all my social contacts had been painful, and I had tried my best to act like a fool to relieve the pain. He was so exhausted that when he saw the face of someone he knew slightly, or even a face that looked like him, he would be startled, and for a moment, he would get a dizzying shiver of discomfort. I knew that people liked me, but it seemed that I lacked the ability to love others. (I doubt very much that people in the world have the ability to love.) As such, there was no way I could have a so-called “best friend,” and I didn’t even have the ability to “visit. The gates of other people’s houses were even more creepy to me than the gates of Hell in the Divine Comedy, and I could feel, without exaggeration, the presence of fishy, foul-smelling beasts like horrible dragons crawling behind the gates.
　I don’t have any relations with anyone. I can’t go anywhere to visit.
　Horiki.
　It was a joke that turned out to be a pawn. As I had written in the letter, I decided to visit Horiki in Asakusa. In the past, I had never visited Horiki’s house on my own, and I had usually sent him a telegram to invite him to my place. With a sigh, I got on the streetcar and realized that Horiki was my only hope in this world, and I felt a terrible chill run down my spine.
　Horiki was at home. In a two-story house at the end of a dirty alley, Horiki occupied the only room on the second floor, a six-tatami mat, while downstairs, Horiki’s elderly parents and a young craftsman were sewing and beating geta cords.
　That day, Horiki showed me a new side of him as an urbanite. He was, as they say, a shrewd man. It was a cold and sly egoism that made me, a country bumpkin, look at him with astonishment. He was not a man who just flowed incessantly as I did.
I’m so tired of you,” he said. Has your grandfather given you his permission yet? Have you?
　I couldn’t say that I had escaped.
　I could not say that I had escaped, so I had to use the word “rei” to cover it up. I was sure that Horiki would find out soon enough, but I faked it.
“I’ll figure it out.
“Come on, it’s not funny. I’d advise you to stop being so stupid. I’ve got some business to attend to today. I’ve been ridiculously busy lately.
“What kind of business?
“Hey, hey, hey, don’t cut the threads of the zabuton.
　As I was talking, I was unconsciously fidgeting with one of the four corner threads of my zabuton, the binding thread or cord, and pulling it with my fingertips. Horiki was not ashamed to admit that even a single thread of a zabuton could be spared if it came from Horiki’s house. When I thought about it, Horiki had not lost anything in her relationship with herself so far.
　Horiki’s old mother brought her two trays of oshiruko.
“What’s this?
　Horiki, like the filial son he had always been, turned to his mother and said, “I’m sorry.
“I’m sorry, is it oshiruko? You’re so bold. I didn’t need to worry about this. I didn’t need to worry about it, because I had to go out right away on an errand. No, but it’s a waste of your prized oshiruko. I’ll have one. Why don’t you have one too? My mother took the trouble to make it for me. Oh, it’s so good. He’s so bold.
　As if it were not an act, he was overjoyed and ate it with relish. I sipped it myself, but I could smell the hot water, and when I ate the rice cake, it was not rice cake, but something I did not understand. It was not that I despised the poverty. I didn’t think it tasted bad at that time, and I was deeply touched by the thoughtfulness of my old mother. (I didn’t think it tasted bad at the time, and I was deeply touched by my old mother’s thoughtfulness. I have a fear of poverty, but I don’t think I despise it. I just want to write that I was so dismayed to feel as if even Horiki had abandoned me. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to say anything.
“I’m sorry, but I have some business to attend to today.
　I’m sorry, but I have some business to attend to today,” Horiki said as he stood up and put on his jacket.
“I’m sorry, but I have to go.
　At that moment, Horiki had a female visitor, and his own life took a sudden turn.
　Horiki became suddenly animated.
“I’m sorry, sir. I was just about to come to you, but this person came unexpectedly, and I don’t mind. Come on in.
　Seemingly in a panic, he took off his own zabuton, turned it inside out and offered it to the woman, who snatched it back, turned it inside out again and offered it to him. There was only one other guest futon in the room besides Horiki’s.
　The woman was thin and had a high back. She sat in a corner near the entrance, leaving the mattress by her side.
　I listened to their conversation in a daze. The woman seemed to be from a magazine company, and she had asked Horiki to do some cutting or something, and she seemed to have come to pick it up.
“I’m in a hurry.
“It’s ready. It’s already done. Here you go.”
　A telegram came.
　Horiki read it, and his good mood quickly turned sour.
“Shit!　What’s wrong with you?
　It was a telegram from Hirame.
“Anyway, go home at once. It would be nice if I could take you home, but I don’t have time for that right now. I don’t have time for that now. You look so carefree, even though you’re a runaway.
“Where do you live?
“Okubo.
　I answered abruptly.
“I suddenly answered, “Well, it’s near the office.
　The woman was born in Koshu and was twenty-eight years old. She was twenty-eight years old and lived in an apartment in Koenji with her five-year-old daughter. She told me that it had been three years since she had lost her husband.
“You seem to have had a hard life growing up. You seem to have had a very difficult upbringing. I feel sorry for you.
　After Shizuko (that was the name of the reporter) left for a job at a magazine in Shinjuku, I was left to stay at home quietly with myself and a five-year-old girl named Shigeko. Up until then, Shigeko had been playing in the apartment manager’s room when her mother was away, but now she was in a much better mood with her “thoughtful” uncle as her playmate.
　I stayed there for about a week in a daze. One of the kites was stuck to the power lines near the window of my apartment, blown by the dusty spring breeze and torn down, but it was still stuck to the power lines, nodding its head and all. I had nightmares.
“I need money.
“…… How much?”
“A lot. …… It’s true what they say, when you’re out of money, you’re out of luck.
“That’s ridiculous. That’s so old-fashioned, …….
“Really?　But you don’t get it, do you? If I don’t do something, I might have to run.
“Which one of us is poorer? Which one of us is poor, and which one of us is going to run away? That’s weird.
“I want to earn my own money and use it to buy alcohol, or cigarettes. I think I’m a much better painter than Horiki.
　At this time, what naturally came to my mind were the self-portraits of Takeichi’s so-called “ghosts” that he had drawn in junior high school. A lost masterpiece. They were lost during my frequent moves, but I have a feeling that they were excellent paintings. After that, even though I tried to paint various pictures, they were far from the gems of my memories, and I was always plagued by a languid sense of loss that left me feeling empty inside.
　A glass of absinthe left undrunk.
　That’s how I secretly described my eternal and uncompensable sense of loss. Whenever the subject of painting came up, that leftover glass of absinthe would flicker before my eyes, and I would feel a pang of impatience, wanting to show that painting to this person and make him believe in my artistic talent.
“I wanted to show him that painting and make him believe in my talent. I don’t know about you, but you’re so cute when you make jokes with a serious face.
　I’m not joking, I’m telling the truth, I want to show you that picture.
Then he suddenly changed his mind, gave up, and said, “A cartoon. At least, I think I’m better than Horiki at cartoons.
　The clown’s deceitful words were taken more seriously.
“That’s right. I’ve always admired the cartoons you draw for Shigeko, and I can’t help but gush over them. Why don’t you give it a try?　I can ask the editor-in-chief of my company to give it a try.
　The company was publishing a little-known monthly magazine for children.
　The company published a little-known monthly magazine for children. …… When most women see you, they can’t wait to do something for you. …… You’re always so frightening, and yet so funny. …… Sometimes he’s very sad and alone, and that makes a woman’s heart itch even more.
　I’m not sure if it’s because I’m not a woman or because I’m a man. In spite of her efforts, she ended up having to rely on Shizuko more and more, and she had to take care of almost everything, including the cleaning up of her runaway from home, by this Koshu woman who was much more of a man than a woman, and she had to be even more “frightened” of Shizuko.
　Thanks to Shizuko’s arrangement, Hirame, Horiki, and Shizuko had a meeting, and I was completely cut off from my hometown, and I ended up living with Shizuko “under the sun. Thanks to Shizuko’s hard work, I was able to make some money, and I used the money to buy alcohol and cigarettes, but my anxiety and annoyance only grew. When I was drawing the monthly comic strip “The Adventures of Kinta and Ota” for Shizuko’s magazine, I was suddenly reminded of my hometown house, and I felt so shabby that I couldn’t move my pen anymore.
　Shigeko called me “Dad” without any hesitation at that time.
“When I prayed, I felt God’s presence. Is it true that if you pray, God will give you everything?
　I wanted to say that prayer myself.
　I wanted to say that prayer myself, “Oh, give me a cold will. Let me know the nature of man. Let it be no sin for a man to push another away. Give me the mask of wrath.
“Yes, yes. I’m sure He’ll give you everything you need, but maybe not for your father.
　I was frightened, even of God. I couldn’t believe in God’s love, but only in God’s punishment. Faith. He felt as if he was going to the judgment seat with a nod of his head to receive God’s lash. He could believe in hell, but he could not believe in heaven.
“Why can’t I?”
“Because I disobeyed my parents.”
“Really?　Everyone says your father is a very good man.
　I know I’m being deceptive, I know that everyone in this apartment likes me, but it’s hard to explain to Shigeko how afraid I am of everyone, how the more I fear them, the more they like me, and the more they like me, the more I fear them, and the more I have to stay away from them.
“What on earth do you want to ask God for, Shigeru-chan?
　I casually turned the conversation around.
“Shigeko wants a real father for her.
　I was startled and dizzy. An enemy. I wondered if I was Shigeko’s enemy, or if Shigeko was my enemy, but anyway, here was another horrible adult threatening me, a stranger, an inexplicable stranger, a stranger full of secrets, Shigeko’s face suddenly looked like that.
　I had hoped that Shigeko was the only one, but it turned out that he, too, had the tail of a cow that unexpectedly swatted away flies. From then on, I had to be frightened even of Shigeko.
“Shiki-ma!　Are you there?”
　Horiki had started to come to her again. The man who had made me feel so lonely on the day I ran away from home, I couldn’t refuse him and greeted him with a faint smile.
“I heard that your manga is becoming quite popular. Amateurs are no match for you because they have the courage to be scary and shit. But don’t let your guard down. But don’t let your guard down, because your sketching isn’t even close to being up to par.
　He even showed the attitude of a master. I wondered what his face would be like if I showed him my “ghost” drawing.
“Don’t say that to me. Don’t tell me that. I’ll scream in pain.
　Horiki finally said with a smile on his face.
“If you only have the talent to walk the world, you’ll get ripped apart someday.
　A talent for worldly affairs. I really couldn’t help but laugh at …… myself. I have a talent for worldly affairs!　But to be afraid of, avoid, and cheat people as I do is the same as adhering to the common proverb, “There is no luck in a god who does not touch you. Oh, I think that people do not understand each other, they see each other completely wrongly, but they think that they are the best of friends, and they do not realize it all their lives, and when the other person dies, they cry and read condolences.
　Horiki, after all, was the one who had been there for me when I ran away from home (though I must have accepted reluctantly at Shizuko’s urging), so she acted as if she were a great benefactor of my rehabilitation or an iceman under the moon, giving me lectures with a plausible face, visiting me drunkenly late at night to stay overnight, and borrowing five yen (it was always five yen).
“He would also visit her drunkenly late at night and borrow five yen. The world will not allow you to go any further.
　What in the world is “the world”? Is it the plural of human beings? Where is the reality of the world? I had always thought of it as something strong, harsh, and scary, but when Horiki said that, I suddenly realized that it was not.
“But when Horiki told me that, I suddenly thought, “The world is you, isn’t it?
　However, when Horiki said that to me, the words, “The world is you, isn’t it?
I didn’t want to offend Horiki.
(It’s not the world. It’s not the world, it’s you, isn’t it?
If you do that, the world will give you a hard time.
(It’s not the world. It’s you, isn’t it?
The world will bury you now.
It’s not the world. It’s you who will be buried, isn’t it?
　　But I just wiped the sweat from my face with a handkerchief and said
“I just wiped the sweat from my face with a handkerchief and said, “Cold sweat, cold sweat.
　I just wiped the sweat from my face with a handkerchief and smiled.
　Since then, however, I have had a kind of thought that the world is an individual.
　To borrow a phrase from Shizuko, I became a little more selfish and less frightened. To borrow a phrase from Shizuko, I have become a little more selfish and less frightened, and to borrow a phrase from Horiki, I have become a little more stingy. To borrow a phrase from Shigeko, I have become less attached to Shigeko.
　I don’t talk much, I don’t laugh, and every day, while I’m doing Shigeko’s bidding, I’ve been working on “The Adventures of Mr. Kinta and Mr. Ota,” “Nonki Osho,” which is a clear subgenre of “Nonki Toussaint,” and “Sekkachi Pinchan,” a series of manga with a title that I don’t understand and that I’m desperate for. In response to orders from various publishers (some of which came from Shizuko’s company, but all of which were from so-called third-rate publishers who were even more vulgar than Shizuko’s company), I drew slowly, with a very gloomy mood (my drawing was very slow). Then, when Shizuko came home from the office, I would take turns going outside to drink cheap, strong sake at a food stall or bar near the Koenji station, and then return to my apartment in a slightly cheerful mood.
“The more I looked at you, the stranger you looked, and I actually got the idea for Nonki Osho’s face from your sleeping face.
“Even your face is getting old,” he said. You look like a forty-year-old man.
“It’s your fault. You’ve sucked me dry. The flow of water and human flesh are the same thing. What are you moping about at the riverside?
“Don’t make a fuss, go to sleep. Don’t make a fuss.
　He was calm and unconcerned.
“I’ll have a drink. The flow of water and a man’s body are the same thing. The flow of water and the body of water are the same.
　While singing, Shizuko would make me strip off my clothes, and I would fall asleep with my forehead pressed against Shizuko’s chest, and that was my daily life.

This was my daily life.
The next day, she did the same thing again.
The next day, he did the same thing, following the same conventions as yesterday.
In other words, as long as you avoid the wild and great joys
In other words, as long as you avoid the wild and loud joys, you will naturally avoid the sadness.
As long as you avoid the stones that block your way
The toad circles around and past.
End of indentation here.

　When I came across this poem by Guy-Charles Croix, translated by Toshi Ueda, I felt my face redden to the point of burning.
　Toad.
(That’s me. There is nothing that the world will or will not forgive. There is no way to bury or not to bury. I am an inferior animal, no better than a dog or a cat. Toad. (It’s just moving slowly.)
　My drinking has gradually increased, not only in the vicinity of Koenji Station, but also in Shinjuku and Ginza, where I go out to drink and even stay out overnight. In other words, he had become even rougher and meaner than he had been before his passionate death, and he was so desperate for money that he took Shizuko’s clothes.
　It had been more than a year since I came here and laughed at that torn kite, and around the time of the cherry blossoms, I took Shizuko’s sash and undershirt to the pawn shop again, made some money, drank at Ginza, and stayed out two nights in a row.
“Why do you drink alcohol?
“My father doesn’t drink because he likes it. My father doesn’t drink because he likes it, but because he’s such a nice guy. ……
“Do nice people drink?
“Not really. ……
“Your father will be very surprised.
“He might not like it. Look, look, he’s jumping out of the box.
“It’s like Sekkachi Pinchan.
“Yeah.
　I could hear Shizuko’s low, happy laughter from inside.
　I opened the door narrowly and peeked inside to see that it was a white rabbit. It was a white rabbit, scampering around the room, and the mother and child were chasing it.
(How happy are these people? (They are so happy, these people.) I, a fool, got into the middle of them, and now I’m going to ruin them. They are happy. A good father and son. Happiness, oh, if only God would hear the prayers of someone like me, just once, just once in my lifetime, I would pray.
　I felt like I wanted to huddle there and join my hands. I closed the door softly and went back to Ginza, never to return to the apartment again.
　So, I ended up lying on the second floor of a stand-bar near kyobashi, again in the shape of a man.
　The world. I felt that I was beginning to understand it. It’s a battle between individuals, and it’s a battle on the spot, and all you have to do is win on the spot. The difficulties of the world are the difficulties of the individual, and the ocean is not the world but the individual. I have learned to behave a little more brazenly, as it were, according to my immediate needs, without being so limitlessly careless.
　I left my apartment in Koenji and went to the madam of a stand-by in kyobashi.
“I’m leaving.”
　That was all I needed to say to the madam of the kyobashi stand-by, and that night I was forced to stay upstairs in the kyobashi. As long as the madam was willing, everything was fine.
　I was like a customer, a husband, an errand boy, a relative, and a very unknown person to the world, but “the world” did not blame me in the slightest.
　I became less and less cautious about the world. I began to think that the world was not such a horrible place. In other words, my previous fears had been that the spring breeze would be filled with hundreds of thousands of whooping cough mold, the public baths would be filled with hundreds of thousands of blinding mold, the barber shops would be filled with hundreds of thousands of bald head mold, the hanging skins of the railway lines would be filled with scabies worms, or the sashimi and pork would be filled with scabies worms. The larvae of the chrysomelid worm and the eggs of the dystoma and other worms were always hidden in the raw meat, and if you walked barefoot, small fragments of glass would enter through the soles of your feet and run around inside your body, poking your eyeballs and causing blindness. It was as if we were being terrorized by so-called “scientific superstition. It is true that hundreds of thousands of fungi floating and swimming in the air are “scientifically” accurate. At the same time, I have come to realize that if you completely silence their existence, they are just “ghosts of science” that will disappear as soon as they have no connection to you. How frightened I am by such “scientific statistics” as how many bales of rice are already thrown away if ten million people eat three grains of leftover rice in their lunch boxes in a day, or how much pulp will be saved if ten million people save one sheet of nosepaper a day. Every time I left even one grain of rice uneaten, every time I sniffed, I was troubled by the illusion that I was wasting a mountain of rice and a mountain of pulp, and I felt gloomy, as if I was committing a grave sin. However, that was the “lie of science,” the “lie of statistics,” and the “lie of mathematics. Even as an applied problem of multiplication and division, it is a very primitive and incompetent subject, just like calculating the probability of how many times a person will step off one leg and fall into that hole in a dark, unlit toilet, or how many passengers will drop their feet into that gap between the entrance and exit of a train and the edge of the platform. It is as ridiculous as calculating probability, and it seems to be possible, but I have never heard of a single case where a person was injured by failing to step over a latrine hole, and I was taught such a hypothesis as “scientific fact,” and I accepted it as reality and was afraid of it. I was taught such a hypothesis as a “scientific fact” and accepted it as a reality.
　Even so, human beings were still frightening to me, and I had to drink a glass of alcohol before I could meet with customers at the store. I wanted to see something scary. Every night, I would still go out to the store and drunkenly spout off some lame artistic theory to the customers, like a child squeezing a small animal that is actually a little scared.
　Cartoonist. Ah, but I’m just an unknown cartoonist with no great joy and no great sorrow. No matter how much I rushed inwardly to have a big, wild joy, no matter how big a sorrow would come later, the only joy I had at the moment was arguing with my customers and drinking their drinks.
　After arriving at kyobashi, I had been living this kind of trivial life for about a year, and my cartoons began to appear not only in magazines for children but also in crude and obscene magazines sold at train stations.

This is the first time I’ve done this.
If you stop praying in vain
I’ll be back in a few days.
Let’s just have a drink and remember all the good things.
Let’s forget about all the unnecessary thoughtfulness.

They’re the ones who scare people with their fears and anxieties
Frightened of the great sins they’ve created
Preparing for the vengeance of the dead.
And to prepare for the vengeance of the dead, they make plans in their own heads.

In the evening, when the wine is flowing, my heart is full of joy
This morning, it’s cool, it’s just desolate
In the midst of a night of wonder
I’m in a different mood

Please stop thinking that I’m cursed.
Like a drum echoing from afar
What’s wrong with him?
I can’t help it if I’m accused of every little thing, even farting.

Isn’t justice the guiding principle of life?
Farewell to the bloody battlefield.
What kind of justice dwells in the tip of an assassin’s tongue?
What kind of justice dwells within?

Where is the guiding principle?
What light of wisdom is there?
Beautiful but fearful is this world.
For the weak child of man is burdened with a burden he cannot bear

And the seeds of uncontrollable lust are planted in him
Cursed with good, evil, sin, punishment, and so on
I can’t do anything about it, I’m just confused
Without the strength or will to break it down

Where have you been wandering around?
What are you criticizing, examining, reaffirming?
Empty dreams, illusions that don’t exist.
I’ve forgotten to drink, so I’m just mulling things over.

Look at this empty sky.
It’s just a dot floating in the middle of the sky.
You don’t know why the earth rotates on its axis
It rotates, it revolves, it reverses itself.

Everywhere I feel the supreme power
In every nation, in every race
I find the same humanity in every nation, in every race.
I’m a heretic.

You’ve all misunderstood the scripture.
Otherwise, they wouldn’t have common sense or wisdom.
They forbid the pleasures of the living, they stop drinking.
Okay, Mustafa, I hate that kind of thing.
I hate it.

　But at that time, there was a virgin who advised her to stop drinking.
“Oh, no, you’re drunk every day at noon.”
　She was the seventeen or eighteen-year-old daughter of a small tobacconist across the street from the bar, a white girl with double teeth. Whenever I went to buy cigarettes, she would laugh and warn me.
“Why not? Why is it wrong? Drink as much as you can, my child, and let the hatred go away, go away, go away. Do you understand?
“I don’t understand.
“Son of a bitch. I’m gonna kiss you.
“Come on.
　He sticks out his bottom lip, not a little offended.
“Asshole. Chastity, …….”
　But the look on Yoshi’s face clearly showed that she smelled like an untainted virgin.
　On a cold night after the New Year’s Eve, I was drunk, went out to buy cigarettes, fell into a manhole in front of a tobacco shop, yelled, “Yoshi-chan, save me!
“You’re drinking too much.
　She said without laughing.
　I don’t mind dying, but I don’t want to get injured, bleed out, and become a cripple, etc. So, as Yoshi-chan tended to the wound on my arm, I thought I should stop drinking.
“I’ll stop. I won’t drink a drop from tomorrow.
“Are you sure?
“I’m sure I will. If I stop, Yoshi, will you be my wife?
　But the wife thing was a joke.
“Mochi.”
　Mochi was an abbreviation for “of course. Mochi was an abbreviation for “of course.
“All right. Let’s do genman. I’m sure I’ll stop.
　So, the next day, I drank from noon.
　In the evening, I wandered out and stood in front of Yoshi-chan’s store.
“I’m sorry, Yoshi-chan. I drank too much.
“Oh, no. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean to act drunk.
　I was surprised. I felt like I was sober.
“No, it’s true. I really drank. I’m not pretending to be drunk.
“Don’t make fun of me. Don’t make fun of me, I’m a bad person.
　They don’t want to suspect anything.
“I’m sure you can tell by looking at me. I’ve been drinking since noon today. You’ll have to forgive me.
“You’re a good actor, aren’t you?
“I’m not acting, you idiot. I’m gonna kiss you.
“Come on.
“No, I’m not qualified. No, I’m not qualified. I’ll have to give up being your wife. Look at your face. Isn’t it red?　I’ve been drinking.
“That’s because the sun is shining on you. Look at your face. I promised you yesterday. You couldn’t have drunk it. I’ve been drinking. It’s a lie, a lie, a lie that I drank.
　I had never slept with a virgin younger than me before, I would marry her, no matter what great sorrows came afterwards for that, I would have a lifetime of wild and great joy. I had thought that the beauty of virginity was just a sweet sentimental illusion of a foolish poet, but now I knew that it existed in this world. They did not hesitate to steal the flowers.
　We eventually got married, and the joy that came with it was not necessarily great, but the sorrow that followed was so unimaginably great that it would not be enough to call it horrible. For me, “the world” was still an unfathomable and frightening place. It was not an easy place where everything could be decided in a single game.

(#5 indented) 2.

　Horiki and myself.
　If this is what is called a “friendship” in this world, then the relationship between myself and Horiki must be a “friendship” as well.
　If I were to rely on the chivalrous spirit of the madam of the kyobashi stand-bar (chivalrous spirit of a woman is a strange word to use, but in my experience, at least in the case of men and women in the city, women have more chivalrous spirit than men. In the case of urban men and women, women have more chivalry than men. I was able to get Yoshiko, the tobacconist, to become my common-law wife, and we rented a room downstairs in a small, two-story wooden apartment in Tsukiji, near the Sumida River. After dinner, we went out to see a movie together, and on the way back, we went to a coffee shop and bought some flower pots. Just as I was beginning to have a faintly sweet thought that maybe I would be able to become more and more like a human being and not have to die a miserable death, Horiki appeared in front of me again.
“Hey!　Hey, color demon. Hmm?　Even so, you’ve become somewhat sensible looking. I’m here today on a mission from Lady Koenji.
　I was about to say this when he suddenly lowered his voice, looked at Yoshiko who was preparing tea in the kitchen with his chin, and asked her if she was all right.　I don’t care.
“I don’t care. I don’t care what you have to say.
　I said calmly.
　In fact, Yoshiko was such a genius at trust that she never doubted her relationship with the old lady of kyobashi, or even with Tsuneko when she informed her of the incident in Kamakura.
“You’re still so cocky. It’s nothing serious, just a message that you should come and visit us at Koenji once in a while.
　Just as I was about to forget, a mysterious bird came flapping its wings and pierced the wounds of my memory with its beak. Immediately, the memories of past shame and guilt unfold before your eyes, and you can’t sit still for fear of screaming.
“Shall I drink?
　I said to myself.
“Okay.”
　And Horiki.
　Myself and Horiki. We both looked alike in shape. There were times when I felt like we looked exactly alike. Of course, this only happened when we were drinking cheap sake here and there, but anyway, when we saw each other, we instantly turned into dogs of the same shape and coat, running around in the snowfall.
　After that day, we rekindled our old friendship, and I went with them to that little old lady in kyobashi, and finally, the two drunken dogs even visited Shizuko’s apartment in Koenji, and stayed there for the night.
　I’ll never forget it. It was a very hot summer night, and Horiki came to her apartment in Tsukiji at nightfall wearing a worn-out yukata, saying that she had pawned some summer clothes for a certain need and that it would be very bad if her old mother found out about the pawn. Unfortunately, I didn’t have any money of my own, so as usual, I told Yoshiko to take her clothes to the pawn shop and make some money. We then went to the roof of the apartment building and had a very dirty summer party with the stale wind that sometimes blew faintly from the Sumida River.
　At that time, we began to play the game of guessing comedic and tragic nouns. For example, a steamer and a train are both tragic nouns, while a streetcar and a bus are both comedic nouns. For example, steamship and train are both tragic nouns, while tram and bus are both comedic nouns. Any playwright who does not know why this is so is not worthy of discussing art.
“Are you ready?　Do you want a cigarette?
　I ask myself.
“Tiger. “Tra.
　Horiki replies subliminally.
“And the pills?
“Powder?　Pills?
“Injections.
“Tiger.
“You think so?　There’s also hormone injections.
“No, definitely tigers. Needles first. You’re a great tiger.
“Okay, I’ll give you that. But, you know, medicine and doctors, they’re more comedy than you think. What about death?
“Comedy. So are priests and monks.
“Very good. And life is a tiger.
“No. Rice.
“No, that would mean everything would be rice. Now, let me ask you something else. What about cartoonists?　You can’t call them comics, can you?
“Tiger, tiger. Big tragic noun!
“What? You’re the big tiger.
　It would have been boring if it had turned out to be a bad pun, but we were very proud of this game, which we thought was extremely clever and had never been seen before in any salon in the world.
　At that time, I had also invented another game similar to this one. It was a game of guessing antonyms. A black ant (short for “antonym”) is white. But a white ant is red. Red ants are black.
“What about flower ants?”
　Horiki’s mouth curved up in thought.
“Well, there was a restaurant called Hanazuki, so that’s the moon.
“No, that’s not an anto. No, that’s not an ant, it’s more of a synonym. Even stars and violets are synonyms, aren’t they? It’s not an ant.
“All right, it’s a bee.
“Bee?
“Peonies and …… ants?
“No, it’s a motif. Don’t cheat.
“All right!　Flowers and clouds. ……
“Clouds on the moon, right?
“Yes, yes. Flowers and wind. Wind. Flower and wind. Flower and wind.
“That’s not good. That’s a Naniwa-bushi phrase. That’s a Naniwa-bushi phrase. It shows your true character.
“No, it’s biwa.
“It’s Biwa. The anto of a flower should be …… the thing that looks the least like a flower in the world.
“So, uh, …… wait, what, a woman?
“What’s the synonym for woman, by the way?
“Offal.”
“You don’t know poetry, do you? So, what’s the ant of offal?
“Milk.
“That’s a little better. Keep it up. One more thing. Shame. Ant of guts.
“Shamelessness. Ikita Joshi, the cartoonist of the moment.
“What about Masao Horiki?”
　At this point, both of us started to feel like we couldn’t laugh anymore, and we started to feel gloomy, as if our heads were filled with shards of glass, which is typical of shochu drunkenness.
“Don’t get cocky. I’ve never been humiliated by a rope like you.
　Inwardly, Horiki didn’t think of himself as a real human being, only as a mortal, shameless, stupid fool, a so-called “living corpse,” who would use him wherever he could for his own pleasure. But then again, it was quite understandable that Horiki saw me that way. I had always been a child who didn’t deserve to be a human being, and perhaps even Horiki deserved to despise me. Maybe even Horiki deserved to be scorned.
“I’m not sure. What is the antonym for sin? This is a tough one.
　I don’t know,” he said, trying to look casual.
“The law.”
　Horiki replied matter-of-factly, and I looked at his face. In the red light of the flickering neon sign of a nearby building, Horiki’s face looked as dignified as a demon detective. Horiki’s face looked as dignified as that of an evil detective.
“That’s not what a crime is, is it?
　The synonym for sin is law!　But maybe that’s how easily people in the world think and live their lives. It is only where there are no criminals that sin thrives.
“What is it then, God?　There’s something about you that’s a little bit like a fucking monk. It’s a taste.
“Don’t take it so lightly. Let’s see what we can come up with. This is an interesting topic, though, isn’t it? It seems to me that one answer to this theme can tell you everything about a person.
“No way. …… Ant of sin is goodness. A good citizen. He’s like me.
“Don’t joke about it. But good is the Ant of evil, not the Ant of sin. But good is the Ant of evil, not the Ant of sin.
“Is there a difference between evil and sin?
“No, I don’t think so. The concept of good and evil is man-made. It’s a man-made moral language.
“Shut up. Then it must be God. God, God. God, God, God. I’m starving.
“Yoshi is boiling fava beans right now.
“Thank you. It’s my favorite food.
　I lay down on my back with my hands folded behind my head.
“You don’t seem to have the slightest interest in sin, do you?
“I’m not a sinner like you, you know. Of course, I’m not a sinner like you. I may take pleasure in it, but I don’t let women die and I don’t take money from them.
　Somewhere in the back of my mind, a faint but desperate protest arises, “I didn’t make her die, I didn’t take her money,” but then I immediately think back to the fact that it was my fault.
　I just can’t bring myself to have a straightforward discussion. I tried my best to suppress the gloomy drunkenness of the soju, which was making me feel worse by the minute, and said to myself, almost as if I were talking to myself.
“But being thrown in jail is not the only crime. I think that if we can understand the ant of sin, we can understand the substance of sin. …… God, …… salvation, …… love, … …light, …… but God has an anto called Satan, salvation anto would be suffering, love has an anto called hate, light has anto called darkness, good has anto called evil, sin and prayer, sin and repentance, sin and confession, sin and …… Aha, they’re all synonyms, what’s the opposite of sin?
“What is the opposite of sin? The counterpart of “tsumi” is “mitsu,” which is as sweet as honey. I’m starving. Bring me something to eat.
“Why don’t you bring me something to eat?
　For almost the first time in his life, he shouted in anger.
“All right, then, let’s go there and commit the crime together. Let’s go to Shita and commit the crime together. The guilty party is the honey bean, or is it the spider bean?
　I was so drunk that I could barely speak.
“Suit yourself. Go away!
“Sin and hunger, hunger and peas, or is that a synonym?
　”Sin and hunger, hunger and peas.
　Sin and punishment. Dostoyevsky. It flashed through the corner of my mind, and I thought, “What if that Dostoevsky is the one? What if Mr. Dost hadn’t thought of Crime and Punishment as a synonym, but had placed it as an antonym?　Crime and punishment, absolutely incompatible, incompatible with glacial coal. When I was thinking of sin and punishment as antonyms in the depths of Dost’s blue, rotten pond, the depths of turbulence, …… ah, I almost understood, no, not yet, …… and so on, when a running lantern was spinning in my brain, I thought
“Hey!　”Hey, it’s a pea. Come on!”
　Horiki’s voice and complexion had changed; he had just gotten up and wandered off, only to come back again.
“What?”
　The two of them went downstairs from the rooftop, and halfway down the stairs to their room further downstairs, Horiki stopped and said, “Look!
“Look!”
　Horiki stops in the middle of the stairs going down from the second floor to her room downstairs.
　Horiki stops in the middle of the stairs leading downstairs to her room, and points to a small window above her room. The lights are still on and there are two animals.
　I stood there on the stairs, dizzy, muttering in my chest with rapid breathing, “This is a human being, this is a human being, there is nothing to be afraid of,” forgetting to help Yoshi.
　Horiki let out a loud cough. The emotion that struck me was not anger, disgust, or sadness, but sheer terror. It was not the fear of a ghost in a cemetery, but an ancient and violent fear, the kind you might feel when you meet a white-robed deity in a cedar grove at a shrine. My youthful gray hair began that night, and I began to lose confidence in everything, to doubt people to the depths of my being, and to withdraw forever from all expectations, joy, and resonance with the workings of this world. In fact, it was a decisive event in my life. I had been split right between the eyes, and ever since then, the wound hurt every time I approached any human being.
“I sympathize with you, but I think you’ve learned your lesson. I’ll never come back here again. It’s like hell. You can go to …… and forgive Yoshi-chan. You’re not a good guy, either. Excuse me.
　Horiki was not stupid enough to stay in an awkward place for long.
　I got up, drank some shochu by myself, and then cried out loud. I could cry as much or as little as I wanted.
　Before I knew it, Yoshiko was standing in the background, holding a plate piled high with fava beans.
“Tell me you’re not going to do anything, …….”
“Don’t say anything. Don’t say anything. You never knew how to doubt anyone. Sit down. Let’s eat some beans.
　We sat side by side and ate the beans. Oh, trust is a sin, isn’t it?　The other man was a small, uneducated merchant of about thirty years of age who made me draw cartoons for him and then left me a small amount of money.
　The merchant never came back, but for some reason I felt more hatred and anger toward Horiki, who had come back to the rooftop to tell me the news without even coughing loudly when I first found him, than hatred toward him.
　There is nothing to forgive or not to forgive, Yoshiko is a genius of trust. He never knew how to doubt anyone. But that is why he is so miserable.
　Ask God. Is trust a sin?
　The fact that Yoshi’s trust was tainted, rather than the fact that Yoshi’s trust was tainted, caused me so much anguish that I could not live for a long time afterwards. For someone like me, who was so frightened, who was always looking at other people’s faces, and whose ability to trust others was cracked, the innocence of Yoshi’s trust was as refreshing as a waterfall of green leaves. Overnight, it had turned into yellow sewage. Behold, from that night onwards, Yoshi started to care even about his every smile.
“Hey!
　He twitched when I called him “Hey,” and seemed to be at a loss for where to put his eyes. No matter how much I tried to make him laugh, no matter how much I tried to clown him, he would become frightened and fearful.
　I wondered if an innocent trusting heart is the original spring of sin.
　I tried to find and read various books about married women who had been raped. But I could not find a single woman who had been raped in such a tragic way as Yoshiko. It’s not a story at all. If there had been even a hint of love between the little merchant and Yoshi, my feelings might have been saved, but there was only one night in the summer when Yoshi trusted her, and that was it. And for that reason, his own eyebrows were split open, his voice became hoarse, his hair began to turn gray, and he had to live in fear for the rest of his life. Most of the stories seemed to focus on whether or not the husband would forgive the wife’s “act,” but that didn’t seem to be such a big problem for me. If he felt that he could not forgive her, he should not make such a big deal about it, but should just leave her and get a new wife. In any case, I even felt that all sides of the story would be settled by the husband’s feelings. In other words, even though such an incident was a great shock to my husband, it seemed to me that it was just a “shock,” and unlike the endlessly lapping waves, it was a problem that could be handled by the anger of my husband who had the right to do so. However, in their case, the husband had no rights, and when she thought about it, she felt as if everything was her fault, so she couldn’t even say a single thing to him, let alone get angry. The wife was raped because of a rare quality that she possessed, and that quality was her husband’s longed-for trust in her innocence, which was so lovely.
　The trust of innocence is a sin.
　Even the beauty that was her only hope was now in doubt, and she no longer understood what was going on, and the only thing she could think of was alcohol. The expression on my face became extremely disgusting, I drank soju from morning, my teeth chipped to pieces, and I began to draw almost obscene cartoons. No, let me be clear. From that time on, I began to copy and sell shunga. I wanted to have money to buy shochu. When I looked at Yoshiko, who was always looking away from me, I wondered if she had been with that merchant more than once, because she was a completely unguarded woman, and if Horiki was?　No, or even with someone I didn’t know?　So I just drank shochu and got drunk, and tried to ask a few sneaky questions, and felt silly inside. And then, after that, I would give her the hellish caresses she desperately needed, and sleep like a muddle.
　At the end of the year, I came home drunk and wanted to drink some sugar water, and since Yoshi seemed to be asleep, I went to my room and found a sugar jar. When I opened the lid, I found that there was no sugar in the jar, but a small black paper box. I casually picked it up and was astonished to see the label on the box. More than half of the label had been scratched off with my fingernails, but the Western letters were still there, and they were clearly written on it: DIAL.
　DIAL. At that time, I was using soju exclusively and not hypnotics, but I was familiar with most hypnotics because insomnia was like a chronic disease for me. This one box of Ziar was definitely more than a lethal dose. He hadn’t sealed the box yet, but he must have hidden it in here at some point with the intention of scratching off the label and all. The poor kid couldn’t read the Western characters on the label, so he must have scratched off half of it with his fingernails and thought it was okay. (You are not to blame.)
　I gently filled a glass of water, trying not to make a sound, then slowly broke the seal of the box and dropped the whole thing into my mouth at once, drank the water from the glass calmly, turned off the light and went to bed.
　For three days and nights, he felt as if he were dead. The doctor considered it to be negligence and gave him some time to report it to the police. When he was about to wake up, the first thing he muttered to himself was that he was going home. I don’t know where he meant by “home”, but anyway, he said that and cried terribly.
　The fog gradually lifted, and I found Hirame sitting by my bedside with a very unhappy expression on her face.
“The other day, at the end of the year, we were both so busy that we were dizzy.
　The person who listened to Hirame’s story was the old madam of kyobashi.
“Madam,” he called.
　I called her.
“Yes, what?　Did you notice?”
　Madame said as she put a smile on her face.
　I let the tears roll down my face.
“Yoshi, let me leave her.”
　The words came out unexpectedly.
　Madame sat up and let out a deep sigh.
　Then I made another gaffe that I had trouble describing as either funny or stupid.
“I’m going to a place where there are no women.
　First, Hirame laughed out loud, then Madame started to giggle, and then she herself burst into tears, blushed, and laughed.
“Yes, that’s better.
　”Yes, that’s better,” said Hirame, laughing lazily.
Yes, it’s better,” said Hirame, laughing lazily, “to go where there are no women. I don’t like it when women are around. Where there are no women is a good idea.
　Where there are no women. But this stupid idea of his was later realized in a very gruesome way.
　Yoshi seemed to think that he had taken her place and poisoned her, and she was even more shy with him than before, refusing to laugh at anything he said, and unable to speak at all. I was annoyed to be in my apartment, so I went out and drank cheap alcohol as usual. However, since the incident with Giard, my body had become much thinner, my limbs were sluggish, and I tended to neglect my manga work. This money also seemed to have come from my brothers back home. By that time, I had become able to see through Hirame’s wasteful theatrics, albeit dimly, unlike when I had run away from Hirame’s house, so I cunningly pretended not to notice and thanked her for the money in a sincere manner. (But I couldn’t help but feel strange, as if I could understand why Hirame and her friends would pull off such a complicated trick, but I didn’t.) With the money, I took the plunge and went to a hot spring in Minami-Izu by myself. I didn’t change my clothes, I didn’t bathe in the hot water, I just ran outside and jumped into a dirty teahouse and drank so much shochu that I felt sick. I drank so much shochu that it made my body feel even worse.
　It was a night of heavy snowfall in Tokyo. I was drunkenly walking along the back streets of Ginza, whispering over and over again, “Here I am, hundreds of miles away from home, here I am, hundreds of miles away from home,” and kicking off the falling snow with my toes, when I suddenly threw up. It was my first hemoptysis. A large flag of the Japanese flag was formed on the snow. I squatted for a while, then scooped up the snow that was not soiled with my hands, washed my face, and cried.
　He washed his face and cried, “Kouko, how is this narrow path?
　How is this narrow path?
　The voice of the poor child sang faintly from a distance, as if it were a hallucination. Misfortune. It would not be an exaggeration to say that there are many unhappy people in this world, or even all unhappy people, but their unhappiness can be protested openly to the world, and “the world” easily understands and sympathizes with their protests. However, since my own misfortune is caused entirely by my own guilt, I have no way to protest to anyone, and if I were to say even a single word of protest while stammering, Hirame and everyone else in the world would be astonished at how I could talk like that. I don’t know if I’m being selfish, or if I’m just too weak-minded, but it seems that I’m full of guilt, and I’m just going to get unhappier and unhappier, and there’s no concrete way to stop it.
　I stood up and went into a nearby drug store to get some kind of medicine, and when I saw the wife of the drug store, she instantly raised her head and looked at me as if she had been hit by a flash. However, there was neither astonishment nor disgust in her eyes, but almost a look of longing, as if she was seeking help. I thought to myself, “She must be an unhappy person, because unhappy people are sensitive to the unhappiness of others,” when I suddenly noticed the wife standing dangerously with her crutches. I suppressed the urge to run over to her, but as I looked at her, I began to cry. As I looked at her, I began to cry, and then tears began to flow from her large eyes as well.
　After that, without speaking a word, I left the pharmacy, staggered back to my apartment, had Yoshiko make me a salt water solution, drank it, and went to bed in silence.
“He said, “You have to stop drinking.
　We were like flesh and blood.
“I think I might be an alcoholic. I still want to drink.
“No, you must not. My husband, who is a Theban, said that alcohol kills fungus, so he got drunk and shortened his life.
“I can’t do it because I’m worried. I can’t do it. I’m scared. I can’t do it.
“I’ll give you some medicine. Don’t drink.
　His wife (a widow with a baby boy, who had entered a medical school in Chiba or somewhere else, but soon contracted the same disease as my father, and was on leave of absence from the hospital.
　This is a hematopoietic agent.
　Here’s a hematopoietic agent, here’s a solution of vitamine. This is the syringe.
　This is a calcium tablet. This is diastase to prevent gastrointestinal distress.
　What is this? She lovingly explained to me about five or six different medicines, but this unhappy wife’s love was also too deep for me. At the end, she quickly wrapped a small box in paper, saying that this was a medicine for when I really, really wanted to drink alcohol.
　It was an injection of morphine.
　His wife said it was less harmful than alcohol, and I believed her. Without hesitation, he injected the morphine into his arm. Without hesitation, I injected the morphine into my arm. My anxiety, frustration, and embarrassment were completely removed, and I became a very cheerful orator. After the injection, I forgot about the weakness in my body and devoted myself to my comic work, creating such a strange taste that I would burst into laughter while drawing.
　I would draw one comic a day, then two, then four, until I couldn’t work without them.
“Don’t do that, you’ll get addicted, you’ll be in trouble.
　When the wife of the apothecary told me this, I felt as if I had become quite an addict (I am very susceptible to suggestion). (I am very susceptible to people’s suggestion. Even if they tell me not to spend this money, when they say, “It’s you, isn’t it? The fear of addiction led him to seek out more and more medicines.
“Please!　One more box. I’m sure I’ll pay the bill at the end of the month.
“I don’t mind paying the bill at any time, but the police are always so annoying.
　Oh, there is always a hint of a murky, dark, shady person around me.
“You’ll have to fake it somehow, ma’am. I’ll give you a kiss.”
　The wife blushed.
　She blushed, and I began to take advantage.
“I can’t get any work done without my pills, you know. It’s like a stimulant for me.
“Then why don’t you get a hormone shot?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I can’t do my job without alcohol, or else I’d have to take those pills.
“You can’t drink.
“Isn’t that right?　I haven’t had a drop of alcohol since I started using the drug. I haven’t had a drop of alcohol since I started using that medicine, and my body is in very good shape because of it. I’m not going to be drawing bad comics forever, I’m going to quit drinking, fix my body, study hard, and become a great artist. Now is the important part. So, please, please, please. I’ll give you a kiss.
　His wife started laughing.
“You’re in trouble. I don’t care if you get addicted.
　”I don’t want you to get addicted,” she said, making a clacking sound with her crutches.
I can’t give you a whole box,” he said. You can’t give him a whole box, he’ll use it up. Half.”
“I can’t give you a whole box.
　I’m going to give you a shot as soon as I get home.
“Doesn’t it hurt?
　Yoshi asked himself with some trepidation.
“It hurts, yes. It hurts, but I have to do it to improve my work efficiency. I’m feeling pretty good these days, aren’t I?　Come on, let’s get to work. Work, work.”
　I was so excited.
　I once knocked on the door of an apothecary in the middle of the night. I suddenly hugged her, kissed her, and mimicked crying as she came out in her nightgown with crutches.
　She silently handed me a box.
　I had already become a complete addict when I realized that chemicals were just as, if not more, filthy than shochu. It was truly the height of shamelessness. I was so desperate to get my hands on the drug that I started copying spring paintings again, and even had a literally ugly relationship with the crippled wife of the drug store.
　I want to die, I want to die, I can’t take it back, no matter what I do, no matter what I do, I’ll only be ruined, I’ll only be adding to my shame, I can’t even hope to ride a bicycle to a waterfall with green leaves, I’ll only be adding to my miserable sins, my suffering will only increase and become more intense. I want to die, I have to die, living is the seed of sin,” he thought to himself, but all he could do was go back and forth between his apartment and the pharmacy in a half-crazed state.
　No matter how much work he did, the amount of medicine he used increased, and the amount he owed for the medicine reached a frightening amount. When his wife saw his face, tears came to her eyes, and she herself shed tears.
　Hell.
　With such determination that he was willing to bet on the existence of God, he decided to write a long letter to his father back home, confessing all of his true situation (although he could not write about the woman).
　However, the results were not good, and I waited and waited for no reply, and in my frustration and anxiety I increased the dosage of medicine.
　That afternoon, Hirame came to me with Horiki, as if she had a devilish intuition.
“I heard you had hemoptysis.
　I heard you had hemoptysis,” Horiki said, sitting on his haunches in front of him and smiling more gently than I had ever seen him smile before. I was so grateful and happy to see that kind smile that I turned my face away and shed a tear. With that one gentle smile, I was completely overwhelmed and buried.
　I was put in a car. Hirame, in a somber tone of voice (a tone so quiet that I wanted to describe it as compassionate), told me that I had to go to the hospital anyway and that they would take care of the rest. We arrived at the entrance of a large hospital in the middle of the forest after a long ride in a car, including my son Yoshi.
　I was expecting a sanatorium.
　I was examined by a young doctor who was very soft and polite, and then he said
“Well, you’re going to rest here for a while, aren’t you?
　Hirame, Horiki and Yoshiko were left alone to go home, but Yoshiko handed her a furoshiki (wrapping cloth) with some clothes to change into and then silently pulled out a syringe and some leftover medicine from between her sashes. I wondered if she had thought it was a stimulant.
“No, I don’t need it anymore.
　It was a rare thing, really. It was the only time in my entire life that I had refused to take a drug when it was offered to me. My misfortune was the misfortune of a person without the ability to refuse. I was terrified that if I were to refuse, the other person’s heart and my own would be forever cracked white and unrepairable. But at that moment, I rejected morphine quite naturally, even though I had been half-crazed in my search for it, and I wondered if I had been hit by what Yoshiko called “godlike ignorance. Wasn’t I already a non-addict at that moment?
　However, I was soon escorted by a young doctor with a sly smile to a certain ward, where I was locked up with a bang. It was a brain hospital.
　It was a brain asylum, and my silly idea of going to a place where there were no women, which I had made when I had taken the diarrhea, had been realized in a very strange way. The ward was full of male lunatics, the nurse was also a man, and there were no women.
　Now I was no longer a sinner, but a madman. No, I was not crazy at all. I had never been crazy, not even for a moment. But then again, that’s what most lunatics say about themselves. So it seems that those who are put in this hospital are crazy and those who are not are normal.
　I ask God. Is non-resistance a sin?
　I cried at the sight of Horiki’s mysterious and beautiful smile, forgot about judgment and resistance, got into a car, and was brought here to be a madman. Even if I were to leave this place now, I would still be a madman, or rather, a cripple, stamped on my forehead.
　Disqualified as a human being.
　I was no longer a human being.
　It was early summer when I came here, and I could see the red water lilies blooming in the small pond in the hospital garden through the iron lattice window. Three years later, when the cosmos began to bloom in the garden, my eldest brother from my hometown unexpectedly came to pick me up with Hirame, and told me that my father had died of a stomach ulcer at the end of last month. He told me that my father had died of a gastric ulcer at the end of last month, and that he and his family had no intention of worrying about your past or your life, and that there was nothing for them to do. Don’t worry about it.
　I felt as if I could see the mountains and rivers of my hometown in front of me, and I nodded vaguely.
　A cripple.
　After I learned that my father had died, I felt as if I had lost my mind. I felt as if the pot of my anguish had been emptied. I felt as if the pot of my anguish had been emptied. I even felt as if the reason why the pot of my anguish was so heavy was because of my father. It was as if I had lost my spirit. I even lost the ability to suffer.
　My eldest brother had done exactly what he had promised to do. He bought a house on the outskirts of the village, which had five rooms, but was so old that the walls were peeling off, the pillars had been eaten by insects, and there was almost no way to repair it. He bought a very old house with peeling walls, pillars eaten away by insects, and almost beyond repair, and gave it to him, along with an ugly, red-haired maid, who was nearly sixty years old.
　A little over three years had passed since then, and during that time I had been raped in a strange way several times by the old maid named Tetsu, and we had occasional quarrels. I didn’t pay any attention to it, and even though I took ten pills before going to bed, I didn’t feel sleepy at all, so I thought it was strange, but then I felt sick to my stomach and rushed to the lavatory. In addition, I went to the toilet three more times. When I looked at the box of medicine, I saw that it was a laxative called Henomotin.
　As I lay on my back with a hot water bottle on my stomach, I thought I would say something to Tetsu.
“This isn’t Calmotin, you know. It’s called henomotin.
　I was about to say, “This is not calmotin, it’s called henomotin. Apparently, “cripple” is a comedic noun. I took a laxative to try to sleep, and the name of the laxative was Henomotin.
　There is no happiness or unhappiness in me now.
　Just a day goes by.
　That was the only thing that seemed to be the truth in the world of so-called “human beings” that I had been living in a screaming, screaming world.
　But a day goes by.
　I will be twenty-seven years old this year. My gray hair has grown so much that most people think I am over forty.