Light and dark

[137]

TSUDA HAD no idea what sort of request was likely to issue from Madam, and he was secretly afraid. It would be terrible to find himself in a vice that compelled him to retract his now avowed willingness to engage with her. He tried imagining how the lady would behave if that were to happen. In view of her station and personality, and taking into consideration their special connection, she could hardly be expected to let him off the hook. Eternally unpardoned in her presence, he would become a living corpse, a man in a deep coma who had been deprived of all means of revival. A cautious man, he lacked the courage to venture into perilous territory whence the chances of returning alive were by no means assured.

Madam was unlike an ordinary person; there was no telling what sort of painful subject she might broach. Having grown accustomed to living for years in an environment that allowed her an excess of freedom, she was nearly blind to her own unreasonableness. In a word, virtually anything was acceptable. In the rare instance when a subject exceeded even her own limits, she obstinately willed it back across the line. Unburdened as she was by any pressing need to dissect her own motives, she enjoyed latitude that made things particularly difficult. Perhaps it wasn’t as much latitude as a prodigality with regard to her own feelings. Having resolved as she went into action arranging other people’s lives that everything she did was a manifestation of kindness and good intentions and accordingly selfless, there was no reason she should ever feel assailed by uneasiness. Since from the outset her self-criticism remained inactive and the criticism of others went unheard or was never communicated to her, her current state of mind was an inevitable outcome.

Having been brought to bay by the lady, such were the thoughts that heaped and twisted in Tsuda’s mind, leaving him more than ever rattled.

Madam observed him and finally laughed aloud.

“What are you wracking your brains about? I suppose you’re thinking I’m about to say something unreasonable again. Well, let me guarantee you I’m not thinking of anything immoral. This is something you could do effortlessly if you just put your mind to it. And the result would only benefit you.”

“It would be that easy?”

“Simple as a joke. You might think of it as sort of a game, a bit of mischief. So take the plunge and say you’ll do it.”

To Tsuda, the lady was talking in riddles. But he was beginning to feel, so long as it was only mischief she had in mind, why not? At last he acceded.

“I don’t really understand, but I might as well give it a try. What did you have in mind?”

But the lady was in no hurry to explain the nature of this caprice. With Tsuda’s assurance in hand, she changed the subject again. But this topic was in every sense at a vast remove from simple mischief. To Tsuda it was a matter of looming importance.

The lady introduced it in the following way.

“Have you run into Kiyoko-san since then?”

“No—”

Tsuda was startled, but not simply because of the abruptness of the question. It was hearing the name of the woman who had unexpectedly dropped him from the lips of the lady who bore half the responsibility for letting her get away. Madam pressed on.

“Then you’re not aware of what she’s doing now?”

“No idea.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

“What if it did? She’s already gone off and married someone else.”

“I can’t recall if you went to the reception?”

“I didn’t — I thought about it, but it seemed awkward.”

“But you received an invitation?”

“Yes.”

“Apparently Kiyoko-san didn’t show up at your reception.”

“No.”

“You sent her an invitation?”

“Yes, I did.”

“So not since then — that was the last time?”

“Good thing it was. It would be a problem otherwise.”

“Perhaps. But there are problems and there are problems.”

Tsuda wasn’t sure what Madam meant. Before explaining, she tacked yet again.

“Does Nobuko-san know about Kiyoko-san?”

Tsuda felt clogged again. Without interrogating Kobayashi, he couldn’t say with certainty. The lady tried a different approach.

“You haven’t told her anything?”

“Of course not.”

“So Nobuko-san is completely ignorant? About what happened?”

“In any event, she hasn’t heard anything from me.”

“So she’s oblivious. Or could it be she suspects something?”

“I wonder—”

Tsuda had to think. But deliberation didn’t lead him to a conclusion.