bitter in his tone.
“Oh, but we’re moving tomorrow.” Michiyo’s voice was suddenly animated.
Daisuke had completely forgotten about their moving. But taken in by her cheerful tone, he followed up ingenuously, “Then you should come for a long visit when you’re moved in.”
“But,” Michiyo started. She was at a loss for an answer, and her forehead betrayed her confusion. She bowed her head. Presently, she lifted her face; a faint crimson had spread over it. “You see, I really came to ask you for a little favor.”
Daisuke’s sharp intuition told him immediately what it was that Michiyo had come for. In fact, ever since Hiraoka had returned from Kyoto, Daisuke had subconsciously resigned himself to being faced with this problem one day.
“What is it, don’t hesitate to ask.” “You couldn’t lend us some money?”
Michiyo’s words were as guileless as a child’s but her cheeks were nonetheless red. Daisuke found Hiraoka’s situation painful indeed, that he should have to force this woman to undergo so humiliating an experience.
Listening to her story, he discovered that it was not that they needed money for moving or for setting up a household. When they left the branch office, they had brought with them three debts; one of them had to be taken care of immediately. Hiraoka had given his word that he would pay the debt within one week of his arrival in Tokyo; for certain other reasons too, this debt could not be neglected like the others. So a worried Hiraoka had been running about since the day after their return, trying to put together the sum, but so far, it seemed, without success. That was why he had had no choice but to send Michiyo to Daisuke’s for help.
“Is this what he borrowed from the branch manager?”
“No, that one can be put off forever, but if he doesn’t do something about this one, it could even affect his plans here.”
Daisuke thought that that could well be the case. When he asked the amount of the debt, it turned out to be only five hundred yen. What a trifle, he thought; yet actually, he himself had not a penny at his disposal. He realized that although it seemed as if he had never been inconvenienced for money, he was, in fact, quite restricted.
“But why did he get into debt like this?”
“It makes me miserable to think about it. Of course, I got sick, too, so you can say it was my fault, but ...”
“So it was from the expenses when you were sick?”
“No. There’s a limit to what you can spend on medicine.” Michiyo did not explain further. Nor did Daisuke have the courage to ask further. Looking at Michiyo’s pale face, he felt in it an undefined anxiety for the future.
___________________
* A long, divided skirt, a standard part of formal wear for men.
* A general term designating married women.
CHAPTER V
EARLY THE NEXT MORNING Kadono hired three carts and went to Shimbashi to pick up Hiraoka’s luggage. It had arrived long ago, but because the couple had not found a place to live, it had been left at the station. Counting the time needed to get back and forth and to load and unload the carts, this was bound to be at least a half-day job. Unless Kadono hurried, he wasn’t going to make it, Daisuke warned the minute he got out of bed. Kadono answered in his usual manner that there was nothing to it. He was unhampered by a sense of time and so could give such a breezy answer; but when Daisuke explained the circumstances to him, his face began to show a glimmer of understanding. When told that in addition to delivering the luggage, he was to stay and help until all the cleaning was done, he readily assented, saying yes, he understood, everything would be all right, and left.
After he left, Daisuke read until past eleven o’clock. Then suddenly, he remembered a story about a man named D’Annunzio who had furnished part of his house in blue and part in red. D’Annunzio’s reasoning seemed to be that these two colors expressed the two principal moods of existence. Accordingly, rooms where excitement was called for, such as the study or the music room, should be painted in red as much as possible. Bedrooms and the like, on the other hand, where the spirit should repose, were to be done in bluish tones. Thus the poet seemed to have satisfied his curiosity by applying a psychologist’s theory.
Daisuke was puzzled that a man so readily aroused as D’Annunzio should have required the presence of the color red, which could reasonably be deemed a potent excitant. Daisuke himself was not pleasantly affected by the brightly painted gates at shrines. Had it been possible, he would gladly have set his head adrift by itself to sleep peacefully in the deep green sea. At an exhibit the other day, someone named Aoki had a painting of a tall woman standing at the bottom of the ocean. Of all the entries, Daisuke had found this one alone to be pleasingly executed. This was because he himself wanted to be in such a submerged, tranquil mood.
Daisuke went out to the verandah and noticed the green that was growing rampant in the garden. The flowers had already fallen; now green shoots and leaves were in their first growth. Daisuke felt the brilliant green as if it had burst in his face. He was glad, though, that there was still a subdued tone somewhere beneath all the brightness that dazzled the eye. Wearing a cap and ordinary cotton clothes, he went out the gate.
When he came to Hiraoka’s new residence, the gate was open and the house seemed deserted. The luggage did not seem to have arrived; nor, for that matter, was there any sign of the couple. A man who looked like a ricksha driver sat alone on the verandah, smoking.
To Daisuke’s query, the man answered yes, they had come, but they had decided that at the rate things were going, it would be past noon before their luggage would arrive, and so they had left again.
“Did the master and mistress come together?” “Yes, they were together.”
“And did they leave together?” “Yes, they left together.”
“The luggage should be here soon too. Thanks for your trouble,” Daisuke said and went back to the street.
He went to Kanda but did not feel like stopping at Hiraoka’s inn. Somehow, though, the two weighed on his mind, so he dropped in. The couple was eating side by side. A maid with a tray in her hand sat at the threshold, her back to the corridor. Daisuke called to them from behind her back.
Hiraoka seemed startled when he saw Daisuke. His eyes were bloodshot. It was because he hadn’t slept well in two or three days, he said. Michiyo said he was exaggerating and laughed. Daisuke felt sorry but was also relieved. He refused their invitations to stay and went out to eat, then got a haircut, went to Kudan, and on the way home stopped in once again at the new home. Head wrapped in a scarf, sleeves tied back, and a long, printed underkimono sweeping in view, Michiyo was supervising the unpacking. The maid who had waited on them at the inn was also there. Hiraoka was cutting the strings on a wicker trunk on the verandah, and seeing Daisuke, laughed and asked if he wouldn’t help a little. Kadono had taken off his hakama, and with his kimono hoisted up, was carrying in a chest of drawers with the ricksha driver. “Sensei, how do you like the way I look?” he asked, and warned Daisuke not to laugh.
The next day, as Daisuke sat at the breakfast table drinking his customary tea, Kadono came in, his face just washed and shining. “When did you get home last night, Sensei? I was so tired I just dozed off, I didn’t notice at all. Did you see me sleeping? That was pretty mean of you, Sensei. Anyway, about what time was it when you got back? Where were you until then?” As usual, he chattered effortlessly.
Looking serious, Daisuke asked, “I hope you stayed until it was all cleaned up?”
“Oh, yes, we got the whole place cleaned up. It sure was hard work, though. It’s different from us moving, say, because there’re so many things. Okusan stood in the middle of the room, sort of blank, just looking around at everything—it