Light and dark

[88]

THEIR FACES were less than a foot apart. Since Kobayashi had turned back just as O-Nobu was stepping forward, they were obliged to halt in their tracks. They stood there, frozen, face to face. Or, more precisely, peering into each other’s eyes.

At that moment, Kobayashi’s thick eyebrows filled invasively O-Nobu’s field of vision. The black pupils beneath them were trained on her unwaveringly. If O-Nobu wished to understand what they were saying, her only choice was deflecting them with force applied from her side. She spoke.

“That’s not your concern. I don’t require that sort of warning from you.”

“On the contrary, you require it urgently. I suppose you mean to say you can’t remember ever having received a warning before. And I suppose it’s true that you’re essentially a splendid young gentlewoman. Still—”

“That’s enough. Please leave!”

Kobayashi did not comply. As they spoke their faces were mere inches apart.

“But I was talking about Tsuda-kun.”

“What about him? Are you saying that I’m a gentlewoman but Tsuda is not a gentleman?”

“I have no idea of what a gentleman is. First of all, I don’t acknowledge the existence of classes in society.”

“What you choose to acknowledge or not to acknowledge is up to you. But what are you saying about Tsuda?”

“Would you care to hear?”

A blinding stroke of lightning flashed from O-Nobu’s small eyes.

“Tsuda is my husband.”

“I know — so you must want to hear.”

O-Nobu gnashed her teeth.

“Please leave now!”

“I’ll leave — I’m on my way.”

As he spoke, Kobayashi turned and moved, heading for the entrance, just two steps away from O-Nobu along the engawa. Watching in dismay as his back receded, O-Nobu stopped him again.

“Wait!”

“Yes?”

Kobayashi slowed to a halt. Extending in front of him both arms clad in the overcoat that was too long for him, he examined himself from head to toe, as though admiring the figure he cut, a cartoon character in Punch magazine, then turned to O-Nobu and grinned. O-Nobu’s voice was taut.

“Why are you leaving without saying anything?”

“I believe I’ve already thanked you.”

“Not about the coat.”

Kobayashi feigned ignorance. He went so far as to appear puzzled. O-Nobu pursued him.

“You owe me an explanation.”

“For what?”

“For what you said about Tsuda. Tsuda is my husband. If you say things that cast doubt on a husband’s character in front of his wife, even if you insinuate things, you have an obligation to explain clearly what you mean.”

“Or at least to retract what I said; I suppose that would do? Since I’m a person with a limited sense of obligation, as you call it, or responsibility, it might be hard for me to give you the explanation you require, but at the same time, as a man who has no fear of shame, it means nothing to me to retract something I’ve already said. Fair enough. I retract my misspoken remarks about Tsuda-kun. And I apologize. Will that do?”

O-Nobu glowered in silence.

“I hereby declare Tsuda to be a man of impeccable character. A gentleman (assuming that sort of privileged class exists in society).”

O-Nobu, her eyes still lowered, said nothing. Kobayashi continued.

“A minute ago I cautioned you to take good care not to be laughed at. You replied there was no need to heed warnings from the likes of me. That made me feel I should refrain from saying more. Now that I think about it, even that was speaking out of turn. So I retract that, too. I’m sorry if I’ve said anything to offend you. My mistake in every case.”

When he had finished, Kobayashi took his shoes from where they had been neatly aligned on the concrete and put them on. Then he slid back the lattice and, as he was stepping outside, turned and said “Sayonara, Mrs. T.”

Murmuring her own good-bye, O-Nobu stood vacantly where she was for a long while. Finally, she hurried upstairs, sat down at Tsuda’s desk and, all at once, slumping forward, burst into tears.