Light and Darkness

by Sōseki Natsume

  Regretfully, O-Nobu’s action and the check itself were too abrupt for Tsuda. Beyond that, his sensibility regarding a theatrical gesture in a case like this was somewhat different from his wife’s. He stared at the check with an odd look on his face. Then he asked, taking his time, “What the devil is this?”

  Instantly the coldness in his voice and the equivalent coldness of the inquiry itself was a hateful blow to O-Nobu’s eagerness. Her expectation had been betrayed.

  “It’s nothing special—you needed something so I arranged to get it for you.”

  The words were spoken casually, but O-Nobu was trembling inside. She was terrified that Tsuda would pursue the matter. That would serve only to reveal to O-Hide that there was no understanding whatsoever between them.

  “You don’t have to look for an explanation while you’re sill recovering. I’ll tell you all about it later.”

  Still uneasy, O-Nobu hastened to continue before Tsuda had a chance to speak.

  “What does it matter, anyway? It’s such a small amount, it could have come from any number of places.”

  Tsuda finally dropped the check beside his mattress. He was a man who desired money but did not prize it. Though he understood more keenly than others the importance of money when it was necessary, his inherent contempt disposed him to affirm O-Nobu’s words wholeheartedly. And so he said nothing. But neither did he feel it necessary to offer O-Nobu one word of thanks.

  O-Nobu was disheartened. Even if he had nothing to say to her, she thought to herself, he might at least have conveyed his relief to O-Hide.

  Just then O-Hide, who had been observing them, abruptly withdrew from the bosom of her kimono a pretty woman’s wallet.

  “Brother! I’ll leave what I brought you here.”

  Removing from the wallet a packet wrapped in white paper, she placed it alongside the check.

  “I suppose I can leave it here?”

  Having addressed Tsuda, she appeared to be waiting for O-Nobu’s reply. O-Nobu obliged at once.

  “This is so kind of you, Hideko-san, but please don’t trouble yourself on our account. It would be different if we couldn’t manage on our own, but we’ll be fine.”

  “But that will leave me feeling so uncomfortable. It gave me such pleasure to bring this along, I even wrapped it up for you; please accept it without objecting.”

  The women took turns acceding to each other, repeating lines in the same dialogue. Tsuda listened forbearingly for what seemed like forever. Eventually they had to turn to him.

  “Brother, please accept this.”

  “May we take it, Yoshio?”

  Tsuda grinned broadly.

  “It’s odd, O-Hide, you were so stubborn a minute ago. Now you’re practically forcing this on us. Which do you really mean?”

  “I mean both,” O-Hide said gravely.

  Her reply caught Tsuda off guard. And her vehemence foiled his inveterate tendency to handle everything with condescension. The more so for O-Nobu. She looked at O-Hide in surprise. Her face was flushed just as before. But the glow in her cool eyes was not only anger. It was impossible not to apprehend something smoldering there that was neither regret nor chagrin nor animosity. What exactly it was they would have to hear directly from her lips. They were both intrigued. Some adjustment in the angle of the sentiments they had sustained until now seemed necessary. Without interrupting her, they hoped to hear in her words an explanation for that slow burn. Just then, as if prompted by their anticipation, she gave them what they wanted.

  [ 109 ]

  “I’VE BEEN wondering for a while whether to say something or be quiet, but now that you’ve had your fun insulting me, Brother, I don’t feel good about going home without speaking my mind. So I’m going to say what I have to say here and now. Just one thing: what I’m about to say is a departure from our conversation until now, so it would be a pity if you have to listen in the same frame of mind. Not because I’m afraid of being misunderstood, but for the simple reason that my feelings simply won’t get through to you.”

  Tsuda and O-Nobu were already in the process of adjusting their attitudes, and these opening words altered the more dramatically the angle of their perception. In silence they waited for what was coming. But O-Hide had yet again to make sure of them.

  “You’ll take me a little seriously won’t you? If I get serious?”

  O-Hide turned her powerful gaze from Tsuda to O-Nobu.

  “Not that I haven’t been serious until now. In any event, now that Sister is here, there’s nothing to worry about. If we get into one of our usual sibling squabbles, all she has to do is order us to stop.”

  O-Nobu essayed a smile. O-Hide did not respond.

  “I’ve been thinking of saying this to you for the longest time. In front of Sister. But there hasn’t been an opportunity, so I’ve kept quiet. And now that you’re here together, as a couple, I can make a point of speaking out. What I want to say is precisely this, are you ready? You two think of nothing at all in this wide world except yourselves! So long as the two of you are doing well, it doesn’t matter how distressed or confused someone else may be, you can turn the other way and pretend they don’t exist—that’s it.”

  Tsuda was able to accept this characterization with equanimity. He was enabled in this by his certainty that O-Hide had identified a salient characteristic, not only in himself but in every human being. O-Nobu, on the other hand, couldn’t imagine a more unexpected appraisal. Her only feeling was dismay. For better or for worse, O-Hide moved on at once before she could open her mouth.

  “All you do, Brother, is adore yourself. And Sister devotes herself to being adored by you. Neither of you sees anyone else. Certainly not your sister, that goes without saying; even Father and Mother have disappeared from view.”

  Having come this far, O-Hide, as if fearing that one of them might interrupt her, abruptly supplemented her remarks.

  “I’m just stating the truth as it appears to me. I’m not saying I want you to do anything about it. It’s too late for that now. Actually it became too late today. Just now, in fact, unnoticed by either of you. That was destined to happen just as it did; there’s not a thing I can do but resign myself. But I do want you both to consider the consequences of the facts as I foresee them.”

  Once again O-Hide shifted her gaze from Tsuda to O-Nobu. Neither of them had any clear notion of what she meant by consequences. They were, accordingly, curious. And, for that reason, silent.

  “It’s a simple consequence,” O-Hide subjoined. “So simple it can be stated in a single sentence. But I doubt that either of you will understand. Because I don’t think you realize that you’re unable to accept the kindness of another person. The consequence of not being able to think of anyone but yourselves is that you’ve both lost the capacity to respond as human beings to another’s kindness. In other words, you’ve been degraded to people who can’t be grateful for another person’s good intentions. Maybe that doesn’t bother you. Maybe you’re thinking you already have everything you need, that nothing is lacking. But, as I see it, this will lead to unimaginable misfortune. To me it appears that you’ve been deprived of your ability to feel happy in a human way. Brother! You say you want the money I’ve brought. But you say you don’t need the kindness that moved me to bring it. To me it’s the other way around. As a human being, it should be the other way around. So this is a terrible misfortune. A misfortune you’re unaware of. As for you, Sister, you’re hoping Brother won’t accept the money; you’ve been suggesting all along that he mustn’t accept it. By declining the money, you’re also hoping to reject my kindness. And you’d like to gloat about that. But it should be the other way around for you, too. You simply don’t understand that humbly accepting this sister’s sincerity would bring you a thousand times more pleasure as a human being than any gloating you plan to do.”

  O-Nobu felt unable to hold her tongue. But O-Hide was even less able. Overriding O-Nobu with the fervent torrent of her words, she was unable t
o stop until she had finished speaking her mind.

  [ 110 ]

  “IF YOU have something to say, Sister, I promise to listen carefully afterward, but please let me finish what I have to say even if it disturbs you. I’ll be only a minute longer.”

  O-Hide’s request was oddly composed. She appeared to be moving in the opposite direction from the state she had been in during her collision with Tsuda, from frenzy toward mildness. Under the circumstances, this struck the other two as an unexpected transition.

  “Brother!” O-Hide said. “Why do you suppose I didn’t give you this little package earlier? And why was I able to produce it just now without feeling uncomfortable? I wonder if you have any thoughts. Or if you do, Sister?”

  It required no thought at all for either of them to interpret this invitation as a preface to more of O-Hide’s specious logic. This is how it seemed to O-Nobu especially. But O-Hide was in earnest.

  “I wanted to use this to make you behave like a big brother. Maybe you’ll laugh at me for making a fuss about such a small amount of money. But for me the amount isn’t the issue. If I see an opportunity to make you behave like a brother, I leap at it. Today I tried my very best to do what I could. And I failed miserably. Especially since Sister arrived, I’ve been a horrible failure. And that obliges me to throw away my attachment to my brother as his sister—I beg of you, Sister, put up with me just a little longer.”

  With these words, O-Hide once again restrained O-Nobu as she attempted to speak.

  “I already know your position. Instead of listening to a long explanation from you I’d prefer to reach my own conclusions based solely on what I’ve seen here today, so I shan’t ask you anything more. But I must still explain myself, and I implore you to listen to what I have to say.”

  Thinking what an extraordinarily presumptuous woman this was, O-Nobu said nothing. It cost her little to remain silent: from the outset she had been in possession of the leeway that goes to the victor.

  “Brother!” O-Hide began. “Look at this. You see how carefully I wrapped it for you at home before I came here. That should tell you how I feel about this, the kind of person I am.”

  O-Hide pointedly lifted the packet from alongside the pillow and held it up.

  “This is called kindness. Since you two have no understanding of what that means, I have no choice but to explain it. And at the same time I must explain that even if my brother won’t behave in a brotherly way, I have no choice but to leave the kindness I brought from home at his bedside. Dear brother, does this represent your sister’s kindness or her duty? When you asked me that, I said they were the same. If your sister remains determined to show you kindness even though you won’t accept it, then how in the world does that kindness differ from duty? Isn’t it simply that you transform my kindness into duty?”

  “O-Hide, we get it,” Tsuda said, speaking out at last. He had grasped clearly what his sister meant to say. But he wasn’t feeling any of the things she expected him to feel. He had put up with her tirade, devoutly wishing she would stop. In his view this sister of his was neither kind nor sincere. There was nothing attractive or appealing about her, nor was she high-minded. She was merely a pest, a nuisance, nothing more.

  “We get it. That’s enough. More than enough.”

  O-Hide had already given up and didn’t appear particularly resentful. She added merely, “This money isn’t my husband’s. If this were money he had put up for you because he felt responsible to Father when you broke an agreement that he’d guaranteed, I imagine even you wouldn’t feel so good about accepting it. And I would feel terrible about imposing on him. So I want to make it crystal clear that this money has nothing to do with Hori. It’s mine! And that should mean that you can take it without objecting. Even if you reject my kindness, you can at least accept my money. At this point I’d rather have you accept the money without a protest than offer me thanks you don’t mean. This isn’t for you anymore anyway. The truth is, it’s for me. Please, Brother, take the money for me.”

  With these words, O-Hide rose. O-Nobu looked at Tsuda and discovered no hint or signal in his face. This left her no choice but to see O-Hide out, accompanying her downstairs. At the entrance to the clinic, they exchanged the standard pleasantries and separated.

  [ 111 ]

  THERE WAS nothing so very surprising about running into O-Hide at the clinic. The result of the encounter, however, was beyond surprising. Though O-Nobu was familiar with O-Hide’s attitude toward her, she hadn’t expected to find herself involved in the kind of scene that had just ended. Now that it was over, she couldn’t help interpreting it as a quirk of destiny. Certainly she wasn’t moved to discover a reason why the encounter should have been inevitable by reflecting on their connection in the past. To put her psychological state more simply, she felt no responsibility whatsoever for the incident. That was something O-Hide would have to shoulder alone. Accordingly, O-Nobu felt unexpectedly serene. At least she was unable to discover any reason for her conscience to be making her ashamed.

  The interview had affected her in two ways. There was, first of all, the disagreeable feeling that had followed it. Folded into this unpleasantness was the prospect of strife that seemed almost certain to befall them through O-Hide’s agency. O-Nobu felt well prepared to make her way through the jungle of this conflict. But only if Tsuda would take her side from start to finish. When it came to that, she felt seven parts secure to three parts uneasy. She had to wonder, somewhat urgently, the extent to which, as a result of her actions today, she had managed to further diminish her cause for concern. At the very least she felt that she had earned some confidence in that regard by doing everything she could to demonstrate to Tsuda her genuine intention to buy, or possibly to repurchase, his love.

  While this had to be accounted the most important aspect of what she herself understood, the encounter had also generated, and delivered into her hands as a natural consequence, a second benefit she hadn’t recognized at the time. To be sure, it was only temporary: it had been O-Nobu’s good fortune to have evaded the eye of suspicion her husband would inevitably have directed at her. It was a change in Tsuda that had made this possible: it was as if, in terms not only of sentiment but of the focus of his consciousness, he was a different man before he had taken on O-Hide as an opponent and after she had begun to vex him. Having appeared at just the agitated moment when this transformation was occurring and undertaken to promote the natural surging of the wave, O-Nobu had, without realizing it, put money in her own purse.

  She was spared, that is, the trouble of explaining the details of why the Okamotos had persisted in inviting her to the theater, and why it had become necessary to visit them at home the following day. Nor was there an opportunity to say a word about a subject she might have wished to bring up herself, Kobayashi’s visit and what he had said to her. Once O-Hide had left, their minds were completely occupied with thoughts of her.

  They read this in each other’s faces. Just as O-Nobu was reappearing lissomely at the entrance to the room, in that instant, having seen O-Hide out and climbed back up the stairs, their eyes had locked. O-Nobu smiled. Whereupon Tsuda smiled too. There was nothing there save the two of them. Each of their smiles touched the other’s heart. O-Nobu, at least, felt that she was encountering for the first time in a long while the Tsuda she had known in the beginning. She scarcely knew what the smile that had risen from inside her signified. It was as if her face itself, assuming the form and shape of a smile, was a memento of a happier time. She stored the sensation carefully away at the back of her heart.

  At that moment their smiles abruptly bloomed; they laughed aloud together, revealing their teeth.

  “I was so surprised.”

  Moving as she spoke, O-Nobu sat down next to Tsuda’s pillow. Tsuda’s reply was calm.

  “I told you not to phone her.”

  They were naturally drawn back to the subject of O-Hide.

  “I don’t suppose that Hideko-san could be a Chr
istian?”

  “Why?”

  “I was just wondering.”

  “Because she left the money?”

  “Not just that.”

  “Because of her sermon?”

  “That’s partly it. That was the first time for me. I’ve never heard Hideko-san sound so complex.”

  “She thinks she’s a logician. She has to take everything apart and put it back together the way she thinks it ought to fit.”

  “I’ve never heard her be that way before.”

  “You haven’t, maybe—I can’t tell you how many times I’ve listened to her run on. She has a habit of making sturgeon out of a mudfish. She’s been influenced by Uncle Fujii, and that turns into poison.”

  “What makes you say so?”

  “She spent all those years at his side listening to him arguing about everything, and eventually she became as fluent a sophist as he is.”

  Tsuda shook his head dismissively. O-Nobu forced a smile.

  [ 112 ]

  BUT SHE felt that she and her husband were facing each other directly for the first time in a long while, and how happy that made her! It was a refreshing feeling, as though the thin curtain that had been hung between them at some point along the way had suddenly been cut and allowed to fall.

  She must labor tirelessly to make him love her by loving him—such was her resolve. Her determination had spurred her to immense effort. Happily she had not labored in vain. In the end she would be rewarded. To the extent at least that she was able to divine the future, she would be rewarded. In her view, the current upheaval, an entirely unexpected incident it would have to be called, was in and of itself the dawning of her recovery. Above the distant horizon she was able to gaze at the pale brightening of a roseate sky. And in the warmth of the hope it conveyed, she forgot the unpleasantness the encounter had caused her to feel. But Kobayashi’s cruel remarks remained as a blot on her heart of an obscure nature. And the disquieting words spoken by O-Hide had become a star of doubt pulsing in her brain with a dull light. But these feelings had already receded to a vast distance. At the very least they were no longer so very painful. And she felt no need of recalling the memory of her agitation in the instant the words had assailed her ears.