Light and dark

[104]

SMALL WONDER that the siblings went abruptly silent. But their silence, the abatement of a gale on the way to unleashing its fury, was by no means an indication of peace. In this moment when words had been unnaturally suppressed, something menacing lurked.

Because of their positions relative to each other, Tsuda was the first to see O-Nobu. Having placed his pillow toward the south-facing engawa, it was only natural that he should discover her the minute she entered from the opposite side of the room. In that instant, lacking the presence to wrap and hide either one away, he revealed two sentiments for O-Nobu to read in his face: uneasiness and relief. She could see that he was at once discountenanced and thankful. This accorded precisely with her expectation as she abruptly entered the room. From one aspect of his expression she took proof and stored it away in her heart that she was justified in a certain suspicion. But that was a secret. In the spur of the instant, she must make her objective in entering to respond to the other aspect. Brightening her pale cheeks a little with a forced smile, she looked at Tsuda. Since this occurred just as O-Hide turned around, the latter took it to mean that O-Nobu, excluding her, was in tacit communication with her brother. A pale flush of which she was unaware rose like a tide to her own cheeks.

“Look who’s here.”

“Good morning.”

They exchanged a simple greeting beyond which the conversation did not extend. Uncomfortably at a loss, they began to feel oppressed. O-Nobu, who was incapable of small talk, untied the large kerchief she had brought with her and removed the books of English humor Okamoto had lent her and handed them to Tsuda. On her finger sparkled the ring that rankled O-Hide incessantly.

Tsuda lifted the slender volumes one by one but merely thumbed the pages before replacing them next to his pillow. He couldn’t bring himself to read a single line. Lacking the courage even to comment, he maintained his silence. Meanwhile, O-Nobu exchanged a few remarks with O-Hide, in every case obliging the latter to reply briefly as though extracting comments from her throat.

Presently O-Nobu produced a letter from the folds of her kimono.

“I found it in the mailbox on my way out so I took the liberty of bringing it along.”

O-Nobu’s language was punctilious. Her letter-perfect politeness, compared with how she was when sitting alone with Tsuda, made her seem a different person. In truth she deplored this sort of formal reserve, but in front of others, O-Hide in particular, she felt she had no choice, in one very specific sense, but to speak through an artificial filter.

The letter was the eagerly awaited reply from Tsuda’s father in Kyoto. Like the previous missive, this one had also been sent by regular mail, which allowed O-Nobu to surmise vaguely even without having heard from O-Hide that it would have little to offer in the way of resolving the problem at hand.

Before opening the envelope, Tsuda spoke.

“I’ve been warned.”

“What?”

“Apparently Father won’t be sending any more money no matter what we say.”

Tsuda’s tone conveyed something unfamiliarly genuine. It was as if his antagonism toward O-Hide had turned him into a more considerate husband, a change that he himself had failed to notice. His unaffected sincerity made O-Nobu happy. Her reply was warm and consoling. Without realizing it, even in her manner of speech, she was herself again.

“If that’s how he feels, fine! We’ll figure something out ourselves.”

Tsuda opened the envelope without replying. The letter it contained was not overly long. It was, moreover, written in characters so large that the contents could be gleaned at a glance. Even so, the women exchanged no comments as they had about the books of humor. Instead they focused intently on the scrolled letter in front of them. Thus it was that by the time Tsuda had finished reading it, returned it to its envelope, and dropped it on the tatami next to his pillow, they were both aware of its gist. O-Hide made a point of inquiring.

“What did he write, Brother?”

Tsuda merely shrugged. O-Hide turned briefly away. Then she inquired again.

“I assume it’s just as I said?”

The contents of the letter were as she had surmised. But his sister’s complacency annoyed Tsuda. Even without the additional provocation, he was already too angry at her to provide a spontaneous reply.