Light and dark

[135]

HE COULDN’T help asking.

“What are you suggesting I do?”

The matron assumed the condescending look of a mother in the face of a childish question. But she didn’t get right to the point. She merely smiled, as if to say “that was precisely the question.”

“Let me ask you, how do you feel about Nobuko-san?”

Tsuda recalled his reply to O-Hide when he had been asked the same question in the same words the day before. He hadn’t prepared a special answer for Madam. That at least allowed him the freedom to reply however he liked. In truth, he felt inclined to provide whatever reply would please her. The difficulty was, he couldn’t imagine what such an answer might be. Thrown off balance and flustered, he grinned. Madam took advantage of his silence to close the distance between them another step.

“I assume you care for her.”

Even here, Tsuda was insufficiently prepared. If it were a matter of dealing with the lady half in jest, there were any number of things he might have said. A responsible reply, however, seriously considered and delivered in a form that was likely to please, did not come easily. What was most convenient, and most inconvenient at the same time, was his feeling that he could speak freely from his heart either way. The truth was, he loved O-Nobu, and then again he didn’t love her so very much.

The lady appeared increasingly grave. The tone of her third question allowed him no escape.

“I promise this will remain a secret between us, so I want you to tell me the truth. I’m not asking for much. A word from you, how you truly feel, and I’ll be satisfied.”

At a loss for what to say, Tsuda felt more and more flustered. The lady spoke.

“You’re so irritating! Can’t you just get on with it, say what you have to say like a man? Nobody’s asking you anything so very difficult.”

Finally, Tsuda felt compelled to speak.

“It’s not that I can’t answer you. But it’s a complex question, ambiguous—”

“Shall I speak for you, then? May I?”

“Please.”

“The fact is—” the lady began, interrupted herself, and continued again.

“You’re sure you don’t mind? You know how undiplomatic I can be, I often find myself regretting having spoken my mind after the fact, when it’s too late to take it back.”

“Please feel free.”

“But if I make you angry at me, the damage is done. Apologizing afterward won’t make any difference — I’ll have played the fool and I don’t want that.”

“But so long as nothing you could say will bother me.”

“I suppose, if you’re sure about that.”

“I promise. True or false, I couldn’t get angry about anything you said. So you shouldn’t feel in the least constrained.”

Having decided it was far easier to place all the responsibility on his companion’s shoulders, Tsuda followed his promise with an encouraging look at the lady, as if to prompt her. It was then, having solicited and received assurance repeatedly, that she finally spoke out.

“Forgive me if I’m mistaken. Secretly, I don’t think you truly care for O-Nobu as much as everyone supposes. Unlike Hideko-san, I’ve suspected as much for quite a while. Are my observations accurate?”

Tsuda was unmoved.

“Of course. Didn’t I tell you before that I don’t care for O-Nobu that much?”

“But you were just being agreeable.”

“I was telling the truth.”

This Madam adamantly refused to accept.

“You shouldn’t try to fool me, of all people. Very well then, may I go on?”

“Please.”

“Even though you don’t care that much for Nobuko-san, you do everything in your power to have others think that you adore her, am I right?”

“Did O-Nobu say anything of the sort?”

“No!” she retorted crisply. “But you say it all the time. I can read it clearly in your face and in your attitude.”

The matron paused a minute. Then she continued.

“I’ve hit the target, haven’t I? And that isn’t all — I even understand exactly your reason for sustaining appearances.”