Light and Darkness

by Sōseki Natsume

  She continued to dwell, and at each utterance Tsuda withdrew a step. If she spoke twice, he took two steps back. Gradually the distance between them widened. Nature didn’t hesitate to trample on the actions that proceeded from her own small nature. At each step it broke the back of her objective without remorse. Inside herself she recognized this. But she was unable to fathom its significance. She could only insist to herself that such a thing couldn’t be. But the moment came when she could no longer quiet her tortured heart.

  “You have no idea how much time I spend thinking about you.”

  A look of dismay appeared on Tsuda’s face, as if this were beyond enduring.

  “Which is why I never doubt you.”

  “Why should you? If I had to live with your doubts on top of all this, I’d be better off dead!”

  “Must you be so dramatic? First of all, nothing is going on. Not anywhere. If there is, accuse me of it. That way I can defend myself if necessary, or explain, or something. But I don’t see what I can do about grievances that have no basis.”

  “You know perfectly well what the basis is; it’s locked away in your heart.”

  “I don’t know what to do if that’s all you have to say—Kobayashi put something in your head, didn’t he! That must be it. Why don’t you tell me what he said? The whole story; you needn’t worry about how I’ll feel.”

  [ 148 ]

  FROM TSUDA’S manner of speaking and countenance, O-Nobu was able to divine clearly what was on her husband’s mind. It troubled him that Kobayashi had come to the house when he wasn’t home. He was even more concerned about what he might have said to her. He lacked a firm hold on what had passed between them. So he had baited a trap and hoped to lure her out.

  Clearly there was a secret. Everything that had been accumulating in her heart until now as evidence pointed unquestionably and without contradiction in the same direction. The secret was a certainty, as clear as a blue sky on a perfect day. And yet, very much like a blue sky, it cast no shadow. She could only stare at it. Reaching out to take it in hand was beyond her art.

  Notwithstanding her turmoil, she retained a sufficient measure of craftiness to set a trap of her own without springing her husband’s.

  “I might as well tell the truth. I heard the whole story in detail from Kobayashi. So you can’t hide anything anymore. What a terrible person you are!”

  This was hardly more than babble. But she spoke the words in earnest, as though she were fighting for her life. She felt compelled to call Tsuda “a terrible person” with vehemence.

  The impact on Tsuda was immediately apparent. In the face of this empty insinuation, he appeared to stagger. The courage it had taken O-Nobu to attempt the very experiment that had failed so miserably with O-Hide seemed about to be requited. She leaped forward.

  “Why couldn’t you have been honest about it before it came to this?”

  What did she mean, “came to this”? Tsuda struggled with the ambiguity. O-Nobu was even more uncertain of what she had intended. Asked to explain, she demurred. Tsuda continued to press her somehow absently.

  “I can’t imagine you’re talking about going to the hot springs? If you’d rather I didn’t go, just say so, it doesn’t matter to me.”

  O-Nobu appeared surprised.

  “I’m not saying anything of the kind. If you can go away to recover with everything at work all arranged, what could be better? Do you really think of me as the kind of person who would object to that and make a fuss about it? As if I were hysterical? How could you!”

  “So you don’t mind if I go?”

  “No, I’m sure I don’t.” As she spoke, O-Nobu had removed a handkerchief from the bosom of her kimono, and no sooner had she held it to her face than she began to cry softly. Her words escaped her now as fragments stammered between sobs, like something broken.

  “No matter how—selfish I may be—to stand in the way of your treatment—such a—grateful as I am for the freedom you always give me—to think that—stopping you from going away to recuperate—”

  Tsuda was at last relieved. But O-Nobu had more to say. As the convulsion subsided, the flow of her words evened.

  “I’m not thinking about anything so trivial. I may be a woman and a fool, but I happen to have my own honor. And I want to uphold my honor, whether as a woman in a woman’s way or as a fool in a fool’s way. If that should be sullied…”

  Having come this far, O-Nobu burst into tears again. She continued, brokenly.

  “If ever—if that should happen—how will I ever—hold my head up—to Uncle and Aunt Okamoto?—I’ve already been made an utter fool of by your sister—and you stand there watching—pretending—pretending you have no idea—what’s going on—”

  Tsuda spoke up at once.

  “O-Hide made a fool of you? When? When you went over there today?”

  This was a serious slip. He couldn’t possibly have known about that meeting unless O-Nobu had told him. Not surprisingly, O-Nobu’s eyes flashed.

  “Lovely. So you already know all about my visit with Hideko-san today?”

  “She telephoned me”—the reply rose only as far as Tsuda’s throat. He paused in confusion, wondering whether to say it or desist. But the moment offered no reprieve. The longer he floundered, the more danger he was in. He felt trapped. Then, at the last possible instant, a hair’s breadth away from being too late, a clever excuse fell out of the sky.

  “The rickshaw man told me when he came back. O-Toki must have spoken to him.”

  Luckily, the maid had known where O-Nobu was going when she hurried out of the house. The shot in the dark had hit the mark, and Tsuda breathed for the second time a sigh of relief.

  [ 149 ]

  HAVING FLAILED away at Tsuda’s defenses, O-Nobu halted. The thought that her husband had not been deceiving her so unconscionably drained the energy she needed to press forward as she had intended. Sensing her hesitation, Tsuda seized upon it.

  “Why should you care what someone like O-Hide has to say? O-Hide is O-Hide and you’re you.”

  O-Nobu replied, “Why should I care? Why should you care what someone like Kobayashi says to me? You’re you and he’s him.”

  “I don’t care. I wouldn’t care if you just stood your own ground. But when he creates suspicion and misunderstandings that get waved in my face, then I have to defend myself, that’s all.”

  “It’s exactly the same for me. O-Hide’s contempt wouldn’t trouble me; I could even handle Aunt Fujii turning away, if only you would stand your ground. You’re the only one who matters, but you—”

  O-Nobu faltered. She had no clear facts. Consequently, she had nothing clear to say. Once again, Tsuda seized hold.

  “You must be afraid I’ll behave in a way that reflects badly on you. Why not lean on me a little instead and take some comfort?”

  O-Nobu abruptly lifted her voice until she was almost shouting.

  “I want to lean on you. I want to feel secure. I want immensely to lean, beyond anything you can imagine.”

  “You think I can’t imagine?”

  “You can’t at all. If you could, you’d change for me. You’re able to be so aloof because you can’t imagine.”

  “Since when am I aloof?”

  “You don’t feel sorry for me, you don’t pity me.”

  “Feel sorry? Pity you?”

  Tsuda repeated after O-Nobu and momentarily floundered. When he spoke again, his voice wavered.

  “You say I don’t feel for you. I want to; I certainly would, if only there were a reason. But there isn’t, so what am I to do?”

  O-Nobu’s voice was taut.

  “Yoshio! Oh, Yoshio!”

  Tsuda was silent.

  “Please! Make me feel secure. As a favor to me. Without you, I’m a woman with nothing to lean against. I’m a wretched woman who’ll collapse the minute you step away. So please tell me I can feel secure. Please say it, ‘Feel secure.’”

  Tsuda considered.

  �
�You can. You can feel secure.”

  “Truly?”

  “Truly. You have no reason to worry.”

  As if she had burst the chains that bound her heart, O-Nobu hurled her passion at her husband.

  “Tell me, then. Please. Tell me everything right here and now, the whole story. Come out with it and give me some peace of mind.”

  Tsuda was flummoxed. His feelings surged and ebbed like a wave. He considered summoning his courage and revealing everything. In the same moment, he reflected that whatever doubts O-Nobu might have about him, she almost certainly did not have hard evidence in hand. Had she known the facts, he reasoned further, having gone this far she would undoubtedly have thrown them in his face.

  He did feel sorry for her. But there was still room for him to get away. He vacillated between moral scruple and self-interest. Abruptly the weight of a trip to the hot-springs resort was added to one side of the balance. Making good on his promise was an obligation to Madam Yoshikawa. And it was something he had to do. The victory went to his sense that the wiser policy would be to avoid a confession until after the journey had been accomplished.

  “We’re just working ourselves up with all this talk. Since there’s no limit to it, I say let’s stop here. But I’ll make you a promise you’ll appreciate.”

  “A promise?”

  “A guarantee. I’ll guarantee that nothing will happen to compromise your honor.”

  “How can you do that?”

  “How? Since I can hardly present you a certificate, I’ll swear it.”

  O-Nobu was silent.

  “If you’ll just say you trust me, that’s all I require. In the unlikely event something should come up and you feel threatened, all you need to say to me is ‘Make this go away.’ And I’ll reply, ‘You bet I will, I’ve promised.’ How about it? Does that feel like a decent compromise?”

  [ 150 ]

  THE NOTION of a compromise may have seemed incongruous under the current circumstances, but it was a reasonable description of what Tsuda was feeling in his heart at that moment. He wanted a compromise in the most appropriate sense of that term. O-Nobu was quick to perceive the truth of this, and her mounting agitation was finally quieted. Tsuda, who had been secretly tormenting himself with worry that the tide of her emotionality would rise again, felt reprieved. In the next instant he recovered the presence of mind he needed to turn the force of her staunched emotion back upon itself. He set to work placating O-Nobu, deploying abundantly phrases likely to please her. Possessed of a calmness and composure he could marshal when necessary, he was inveterately adept at accommodating himself in the moment to his companion’s feelings. Small wonder that his efforts were not in vain. For the first time in a long while, O-Nobu beheld the Tsuda she had known before their marriage. Memories from the time of their engagement revived in her heart.

  My husband hasn’t changed after all. He’s always been the man I knew from the old days.

  This thought brought O-Nobu a satisfaction more than sufficient to rescue Tsuda from his predicament. The turbulence that was on the verge of becoming a violent storm subsided. As a couple, however, they had changed. Somewhere along the way through the turbulence, without realizing it, they had altered the nature of their connection.

  As the storm was subsiding, Tsuda had an insight.

  In the final analysis, a woman is easily consoled.

  Embracing the confidence the upheaval had conferred on him, he secretly rejoiced. Until now, dealing with O-Nobu, he had never once escaped feeling in some way or other that she was more than he could handle. Even as he reminded himself that she was a mere woman, at some point every day there came a time when he was forced to taste a sickening sense of defeat. He hadn’t yet dissected this to discover whether it was attributable to her intuition, to the adroitness that might be seen as an active function of her intuition, or to something else entirely, but there was no question that it was a fact. It was, moreover, a fact that he had folded away inside himself and never yet revealed to anyone. In that sense, it was at once a fact and a secret. Why had he converted this undeniable fact into a secret? Put simply, because he wished to think as highly of himself as possible. No matter that in the war of love, which was how he viewed their relationship, he regularly found himself in the position of the defeated, he was nonetheless a proud man. To be sure he was vanquished, but since defeat was inevitable, out of his hands, he never truly surrendered. Not that he accepted his captivity to love with open arms; instead, invariably, he was caught off guard and felled. Much as O-Nobu, failing to notice that she was wounding his pride, experienced the only satisfaction she took from love in vanquishing him, Tsuda, who hated losing, gave in each time his strength failed him and she knocked him to the ground even as he lamented his surrender. Now that his manipulations had in the course of a single, painful evening inverted their unusual relationship, it was only natural that his attitude toward O-Nobu should change. Until now, he had never once beheld this woman called O-Nobu come at him so candidly and with such fierceness, highhanded yet deferential to the point of fawning, but without falsehood. Fleeing before her with his weaknesses in his arms, he had succeeded for the first time in defeating her. The result was clear. Now at last he was able to disdain her. At the same time, he was able to extend her more sympathy than before.

  For her part, O-Nobu was also in the process of changing following the upheaval. Having confronted her husband in this manner for the first time, she had been so intent on striking at his weakness that she had finished by showing him a weakness of her own that she had never revealed until now, and this above all she regretted. Desiring nothing more than to be loved by Tsuda, she was accustomed to believing implicitly she could rely on her own skill. She was resolved that her wisdom in all things should prevail. Needless to say, her insight could not be called complex. It was hardly more than a stubborn determination not to indulge in unseemly behavior such as bowing her head in an appeal for pity no matter how essential to her existence her husband’s love may have been. It was a firm resolve to demonstrate, should her husband fail to love her as she desired, that she could free herself with the power of her own wits. Sustaining this determination had taken its toll in constant tension. It was inevitable that this extreme of tension must snap. When it did, all too clearly, she would be compelled to betray her own determination. Unaware of the contradiction, the unfortunate girl charged headlong. And finally she snapped. Afterward she was filled with regret. Happily the outcome was not as cruel as she might have thought. Even as she exposed her weakness, she received a kind of reward. Until now, no matter how flushed with victory she may have been, the effect on her husband had never once satisfied her, but this time there was a slight change. Tsuda, heading in the general direction of her satisfaction, took a step closer. Unmistakably he had used the word “compromise.” The choice of words amounted to a tacit confession of the existence under the rose of the secret she was laboring to spade up. Confession? She tested the notion on herself. And when she had confirmed to her own satisfaction that it was unmistakably a confession akin to a tacit acknowledgment, she felt at once chagrined and happy. She didn’t press her husband further. Just as Tsuda had felt sorry for her, she found herself able to feel sorry for him.

  [ 151 ]

  BUT THE natural course of things proved unexpectedly stubborn. They were unable to separate on this note. An odd twist in the conversation threatened to roil again the stormy sea that had begun to calm.

  It happened as O-Nobu was beginning to quiet her agitated feelings. The effect of the turbulence she had come through was already working on her. As a person who has had too much to drink will make use of his intoxication, she turned to Tsuda.

  “When do you plan to go to that spa?”

  “I was thinking as soon as I get out of here. The sooner I can soak this body at a hot springs, the better I’ll feel.”

  “I can imagine. There’s no point delaying now that you’ve decided to go.”

  Fee
ling that the matter had been settled, Tsuda was relieved. As he relaxed, O-Nobu dealt him a surprise.

  “I’d love to go along if you don’t mind.”

  Tsuda had lowered his guard and now he was aghast. He had to consider carefully before he replied. It had never occurred to him to take her with him. Which made opposing her now the more difficult. One false note and there was no telling how she might react. As he deliberated what to say, a critical moment passed. O-Nobu persisted.

  “You don’t mind, do you?”

  “Not really—”

  “What does that mean? You do mind?”

  “It’s not that I mind—”

  Tsuda’s desire not to take her was in danger of being dragged little by little into the light. Understanding that the slightest indication of suspicion in O-Nobu’s eye would mean an end to the matter, He was being influenced by the same psychology that governed O-Nobu. The effect of the recent storm had already possessed him. He had no choice but to make use of it in his way. He recalled the two-character Chinese compound for “appeasement.” Appeasement would do the trick. No woman can resist being appeased. Armed with this new conclusion, he turned to O-Nobu.

  “Of course you can come. In fact, it would be a boon to me if you did. I’ll have trouble managing by myself. Nothing could be better than having you there to look after me.”

  “It makes me so happy to hear that. Of course I’ll come.”

  “There’s just one thing—”

  O-Nobu frowned.

  “What?”

  “The house. What will you do about the house?”

  “Toki will be there, so I won’t have to worry.”

  “You won’t have to worry—that’s so typical of you, careless as a child.”

  “What’s careless about that? If you think Toki can’t watch the house by herself, I’ll have someone stay with her.”

  O-Nobu recited the names of several people who would be suitable house sitters; Tsuda rejected them one after the other.