Finally, as promised!
I had up to Chapter 6 translated, but, my ｌａｐｔｏｐ died on the weekend(I had to hastily buy a new one so I could do my work), and my backup only has the translation up to chapter 4. However, assuming that the hard drive of my laptop is still ok, my friend says he should be able to recover the contents for me once he gets a new computer.
Still busy, which is nothing new…work is normal but Ive been studying like mad because I`m planning on taking the JLPT N1 test next July and I am so not ready for it…and also boys who don`t speak English 😉
せつなさは夜の媚薬-Painfulness is the aphrodisiac of night
Chapter 1
The outlines of the chapel, emerging dimly out of the dusk light, were a dignified and somehow fairytale-like spectacle.
Standing under the shade of the ginko trees lining the side of the building, Seikanji Michitaka, wearing a stand up collar uniform, was at a loss.
Taisho 12(1923), the last days of June.
The air carried the humidity of the rainy season. A high school girl, with glossy black hair in braids, looked down and motionlessly waited for Michitaka’s answer.
Are you really ok by yourself? If you’d like, do you want me to go with you?
He remembered the voice of his friend, who’d seemed somehow worried, and yet also amused, and Michitaka unthinkingly, clasped his hands together tightly. A late bloomer, he was often teased for his naïve inexperience, but as he became 19, a fine adult, he ought to just bear it.
“What’s your answer…?” The girl asked in a tremulous voice, unable to bear the silence.
“Until now…school has been my priority, so I haven’t been thinking about going out with a girl.” Michitaka poured out, without taking a breath. “Therefore, could we just be friends first? I don’t know anything about you, don`t you have to get to each other more before becoming lovers? …”
The girl looked up at him, instantly, large tears overflowed from her eyes, falling down her cheeks.
“Ah, um” shaken at having made the girl cry, Michitaka unthinkingly reached out his hand. However, in a quick motion, the girl twisted away, and ran away as fast as she could.
“Wait!” Although he tried to call after her in a firm tone, to pull her back, she didn’t look back even once.
He’d done it now…
Michitaka’s shoulders fell, and with no strength, slumped down where he was standing.
The day before yesterday, the girl, waiting for Michitaka on his way to school, had handed him a letter that said `I have something I want to tell you` and calling him out to this place. The letter, had been full of feeling, and when the girl faced him and directly tried to tell him her feelings, he had wanted to be sincere, and after sleeplessly thinking it over and over, this was the answer he`d come to.
Like that, all too much of a mess, he also knew his school friends would tease him about being weighed down by a love affair.
He’d definitely hurt that girl.
On top of that, unlike if it were his friends and family, if it was someone he didn’t know when he would meet them again, he couldn’t wish to apologise again.
The moment he thought that, aware of his grave sin and with pangs of conscience, both Michitaka’s shoulders bent forward heavily.
Be as that may, if he headed down the road like this, he might run into her, so with heavy steps Michitaka headed to the chapel.
The imposing door made a creaking sound.
The first time he stepped into a chapel, it was filled with solemn tranquillity. Mingling with the people who came as they liked to offer up prayers, Michitaka sat down dispiritedly.
If he prayed to god, maybe he would feel better, but Michitaka was not a follower of the Christian religion. Sorting out his feelings was none other than his own duty. Shutting his eyes so tightly his eyelids hurt. He repeated “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” over and over in his heart. It was also the that he couldn’t resolve things by only apologising.
However, then, what could he do? Thinking and thinking, it didn’t look like an answer would come.
–From then, how much time had passed?
When he’d calmed down, when he looked at the clock, more than thirty minutes had passed. It was impossible to completely wipe away his feelings of guilt, but, as far is it went, he’d been able to reach an acceptance that this time it couldn’t be helped.
When Michitaka got up from his seat and went to get out into the aisle, the man sitting in the row next to him took a step forward into the aisle at the same time.
To give way in the narrow space, the man stood still. Then, when Michitaka raised his head and said “Please, go ahead,” his eyes went wide.
…he was like an angel.
Although, the man, who appeared to be a westerner, who had a strong seeming body and a beautiful, masculine face, he had not one atom of a neutral element.
The man was probably about 30 years old. Reflecting the unreliable light of the candles, that golden hair gleamed, as if were a halo, and Michitaka’s foremost impression, angel, was intensified.
His chiselled features were brilliant, and not at all base. A beautiful face filled with power and refinement, that would inspire awe in all those who looked upon it. He did not merely appear to be a well featured statue, his lips that described a sensuous arc, and blue eyes that turned up at the edge, were a work put together with magnificent harmony.
The hue of his hair and eyes, and formal clothes, that with one glance one could discern their quality, shone perfect, just the image in a scroll.
The man opened his mouth to say something, and gradually, time started to move. Flustered, taking a step back, Michitaka, spellbound, realised that he had even really stopped breathing.
Giving a light nod, the man left the building.
The strikingly beautiful face burned into his retinas.
A long time ago, it might have been the case, but in the Imperial reign of Taisho, it was not so rare to see foreigners, however, this was the first time Michitaka had ever seen such a beautiful, arresting form as his.
For Michitaka, who had until now never displayed an interest in the beauty or ugliness of other people, his impolite behaviour was embarrassing, then mysterious. Without a doubt, he would certainly be thought as to be lacking in manners, and his cheeks reddened in shame.
Clutching his chest, Michitaka, who nonchalantly looked over to where the man had been, exclaimed “ah!”
Left on the top of the wooden bench the man had been sitting on just before, there was a bible.
The man had forgotten it.
Reflexively grabbing it, Michitaka ran out towards the door. Fortunately, just as he about to go through the gate, he detected the man’s back, descending down the hill.
“Umm, hey!” He loudly raised his voice, but, really, would his Japanese be understood?
As Michitaka descended the slope of the hill, towards the man,when he called out once again, the shadow of a large form sprang out in front of Michitaka.
“Oi!”
Standing in front of Michitaka, blocking his way, was a large framed man wearing the uniform of a university student.
For what on earth had he been stopped for? Another person came around from behind Michitaka. Both men were in fine physical condition, and a size larger than Michitaka.
“If you need me for something, please can it wait, right now I’m in a hurry.”
“Shut up. You’ve already made me wait long enough. You made my sister cry, bastard.”
Michitaka started, at the voice so very clearly full of wrath. Unmistakably, his sister was the girl from before.
“Even though she came along with me for an important appointment, she went home crying. That’s your fault right.”
Roughly grabbing Michitaka by the neck, he clenched his right hand powerfully.
In relation to that girl, the was no scope for apology. Immediately resigning himself, Michitaka shut his eyes.
“-stop it now!”
Suddenly, a beautiful voice he had never heard before cut though. Like he was urged by the lustrous voice falling from above, Michitaka, though pained, opened his eyes.
“ah…”
Holding back the student’s right arm from behind, that man, who Michitaka had been chasing just moments ago.
“Owww! What are you doing?”
Though his face twisted in pain, the university student wouldn’t let go of Michitaka. Seeing him thus, his fellow students were nervously frozen in place.
“I don’t think it’s gentlemanly to outnumber him like that.”
Although it came somewhat accented, as long as you took that away, it was otherwise perfect Japanese. He was from all appearances a westerner, his fluent Japanese was all too unexpected.
“What, you wanna go at it?” The student tried to shake off the hand that clenched his, but the man was stronger than he thought.
Trying to withstand the pain, the student’s face rapidly turned vermillion. Contrarily, the colour of the other man’s face did not change one bit, and he glared sown at the student with frozen eyes.
“Let go!”
“I will when you promise not to hit him.”
“Alright, I get it. I get it, let go!”
The hand that gripped Michitaka’s collar soon let go, at the same time, the student was released.
Coughing violently for some time, the student left with a lame “I’ll remember this!” and fled the scene as if to escape.
Michitaka simply stood there dumbfounded, having just been saved by the man.
“Are you ok?”
Michitaka nodded agitatedly, at his somehow dispassionate way of speaking.
“Yes! Thank you very much for saving me!”
“No thanks are necessary. Do you have some matter with me?”
“Ah, yes I did. This was left on a bench. Isn’t it yours?”
Seeing the book Michitaka presented, a small change resembling bewilderment crossed the man’s face.
“I’m sorry you went to the effort of bringing this to me, but it belongs to the church.”
“Ehhh-“
Seeing that it did not make sense to Michitaka, the man added, “They’re put out for people who’ve forgotten their bibles.”
“Is that so?! I’m sorry, I completely misunderstood!” His cheeks becoming hot, Michitaka continued, trying to hide his embarrassment.
“This important item, and I’ve made off with it…I’m incredibly sorry for holding you up!”
Michitaka vigorously bowed and went to excuse himself from the scene, but with a light movement of his hand the man held Michitaka back. His gesture, in which existed both hauteur and self confidence, was so elegant it was fascinating.
“Wait. I haven’t said thanks yet.”
“But, on top of my misunderstanding, you saved me…”
“The thing that saved you was the fact you chased after me. Anyhow, I’ll return the bible.”
“It was me who misunderstood, I will go return it.”
The man gave Michitaka a fixed stare, who clutched the bible to his chest. Without understanding the reason for the man observing him like he was different, Michitaka returned his gaze head on.
In that moment.
The lips of the man Michitaka gazed up at suddenly broke into a smile.
A lustrous change of appearance. Peeling away the frozen mask, the elegant smiled speared before his eyes, a feeling that shot straight through Michitaka’s heart.
Like alarm bells, the beat of his heart, and his body become hot from is very core. Not even for a second could be look away from the man’s eyes.
Even though it would be a shame to blink, sweat from his forehead dripped into his eyes, and Michitaka quietly spoke up.
The man pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and pressed the soft material to Michitaka’s brow.
“Thank you. You, your gentleness, is like a gift from god.”
Gentleness…
Those words, too generous for him, carried straight into the deepest part of his chest. If he said so himself, they were simple words. However, until that moment, the heavy feeling of guilt that weighed on his shoulders became, at those words, a feeling of lightness.
“No, it’s me who should be thanking you! Thank you very much!” The man, hearing that, suddenly grabbed Michitaka’s hand. Then, leaning forward, with complete naturalness, he kissed the back of Michitaka’ hand.
“Wha-“ Michitaka was so surprised he quietly gasped. The man then slipped the handkerchief from before into Michitaka’s hand.
“Buona Fortuna”
The quiet whisper of the foreign words tickled his ear.
Leaving Michitaka dumbfounded in that spot, the man then turned on his heel, and left.
…he was hot.
Where the man’s fingers had touched, he felt like he would melt.The existence of another person entered and diffused throughout his body, combining with the warmth of his own body and completely overcoming that body.
For some time, Michitaka, vague, tightly clenched the handkerchief that had been left in his hand.
The shape of that man had long ago melted into the darkness.
–
The residence of the Seikanji family, a noted family of the Kuge, was in the Azabu ward of Tokyo city. On the vast grounds, an elegant Western style mansion and a traditionally styled villa stood, their majestic appearance was renowned throughout the neighbourhood.
The head of the Seikanji house, in Meiji 17(1884), had been granted a peerage, and since then, that title had been allowed to pass through generations as a heredity title.
After the Meiji restoration, as it was called, Michitaka’s great grandfather shifted his residence from Kyoto to Tokyo, and started up in business, at this time also changing his way of living to a completely Western style. To the interior of the mansion, shoes and daily life, at that time, households that regularly wore western clothes and lived in a western way, were, in the capital, few.
Also, unusually, as one of the noble class, who were said to be poor at business, his great grandfather was possessed of great resourcefulness and quick wits. In a flash, his enterprises had expanded into heavy industry and spinning mills and had built up one large conglomerate, commonly called the Seikanji zaibatsu.
The Seikanji family, despite its bright prospects, was driven into decline through the conclusion of the Great War and the demise of wartime procurement. On top of the drawn out recession, Michitaka’s father, the current head of the Seikanji house, Fuyuki, had no interest in business, and didn’t even carry out his role as a member of the house of lords. His one and only reliable elder brother Kunitaka had died in an accident in Kobe the previous year, and in his stead his next eldest brother Kazutaka had shouldered the burden of the family.
Be as that may, Kazutaka was a high class idler who had never known hard work, had manage to raise money from somewhere, but he was still simply pouring water on a hot stone. And, to make it worse, among the rumours that the Seikanji family was finished, Kazutaka had taken up with that man.
“I’m home.”
“Welcome home, Michitaka-sama,” greeting Michitaka who had just arrived home, was the butler that attended on the Seikanji family, Naitou. He had served them from since before Michitaka was born, to Michitaka, he had been the equivalent of a guardian.
“Ah- Michitaka nii-san!”
Seikanji Mariko, who face peeked from the stairs, showed a happy expression at seeing her next eldest brother. However, her voice was somewhat hushed, she seemed to be cautious as she descended the stairs.
“Mari-chan, what’s wrong?”
They were only separated by three years in age, and both of them barely remembered their mother’s face. Among the siblings, Michitaka and Mariko had a particularly close relationship. Although she had somewhat of a tomboyish streak, with her wise and beautiful features, she was a source of pride to Michitaka.
“Kazutaka nii-sama’s poor condition.”
“ehh…still?” Michitaka’s brows furrowed.
“He had a slight fever this morning, and hasn’t eaten anything. Naomi-san is with him now.”
“In that case, shouldn’t Sayo-san be taking care of him, not Naomi-san?”
When he brought up the name of the senior maid, Mariko shook her head.
“It’s no good, Kazutaka nii-san only wants Naomi-san to go into his room.”
Michitaka only acknowledged that with a nod.
Living in the Seikanji mansion was one outside element.
That was, that man…Fukazawa Naomi.
Fukazawa was Mariko’s fiancée, and now worked as the president of Seikanji Spinning. Originally coming from an impoverished tenant farm in Kanazawa, his quick mind and resourcefulness was discovered by the influential politician Kijima Astuhiro, who came from the same province. Fukazawa became a live in student with Kijima, and graduated at the top of his class from Tokyo University.
He continued to work for Kijima, at the same time, Kazutaka also worked as a secretary for Kijima, the same as Fukazawa, and that was where they had met.
The youthfulness of 16 years, Mariko had had a marriage of political convenience decided for her, in her heart, how did she feel about such a thing?
So that Fukazawa would be of appropriate social status for Mariko, he’d been adopted by Kijima, but was called by his previous name in common use. That was, anyhow, while unmarried, and living in the same house as her fiancée, rumours had arisen among high society.
It would be far better for Mariko to wait a bit more for marriage discussions. However, although by the time it was gossiped about, why the betrothal had been given consent, Michitaka hadn’t known. Having said that, Michitaka felt no negative feelings towards Fukazawa.
By nature, Michitaka’s feelings of like and dislike to others were faint, to anyone he was open and unguarded, and amiable. In addition to that, Fukazawa himself was temperate and modest, he showed no component of dislike to Michitaka.
Number 1, exactly because he maintained friendship with the selfish and haughty Kazutaka, it merited surprise. Furthermore, Fukazawa possessed a great talent for business, and had rescued the Seikanji family and zaibatsu from its dire straits. For example, all in one go he had driven the expansion of all sorts of factories into China, as the head, due to the reduction of labour costs, raising huge profit was Fukazawa’s meritorious achievement. Making a move into defence contracting was Michitaka’s single dissatisfaction, but to the family, that Fukazawa was regarded as a saviour would not be an exaggeration.
For exactly that reason, as the guardian of the family, the circumstances were that rather than the self indulgent Kazutaka, Fukuzawa would sooner have the more serious Michitaka succeed to the head of the family
Certainly, that way would be secure, but now, just when he’d become a university student, he couldn’t at all resolve himself to taking over this old family.
“Michitaka-niisan, why are you late?”
He was unwittingly shaken, the church he visited today was Mariko’s domain. Mariko attended Azabu’s catholic church once a week for philanthropic activities. Even if that wasn’t so, Mariko, of late, had had strangely discerning moments, he could think of her as an older sister rather than a younger.
She joked with Michitaka, he had the feeling she looked down on his point of view.
Even just a little bit before, they had gambolled around like puppies, but now, sometimes, he’d become lonely. It seemed her engagement was a great turning point for Mariko after all.
He had not thought fully about Mariko becoming another man’s. Even if her partner was Fukazawa, who lived with them like he was part of the family.
“I would just like to remind you that dinner is at seven. Michitaka-sama.” Naitou, who had until then been patiently waiting, as to not interrupt them, finally interjected.
“Ah. Well, Mari-chan, later then.” Leaving her with those words, Michitaka headed up to his room on the second floor.
Starting from the stairs, the second floor hallway spread left and right, at the centre was his father Fuyuki’s room. From there, on the right hand side was the study, Kazutaka’s room, Fukazawa’s room, then, on the left hand side, the parlour, Michitaka’s room, and Mariko’s room each respectively arrayed.
The door to Fuyuki’s room had been closed all day, but it was not rare for there to be days he didn’t see his father at all.
Michitaka entered his room, and like that, flopped onto the bed. Taking in Michitaka’s weight, the bed creaked. Noticing the handkerchief that he had stuffed into his pocket, Michitaka took it out and spread it out in the air above his head.
The pure white handkerchief had not one stain.
All in all, he had left quite an impression. That man with blond hair, had helped Michitaka without any hesitation. Even though it was an imposition, he had not quailed at saving Michitaka, someone he didn’t know.
A man like that, was truly a real gentleman. An affectation to be sure, and yet, despite all that, his elegant conduct, beautiful face, low voice with depth…nothing would be forgotten easily. His dress too was splendid, he was definitely of the upper class.
His words, evaluating Michitaka as ‘kind’, Michitaka understood were not without intent. However, for cancelling out the black feelings of guilt that coiled inside Michitaka’s heart, that was more than enough.
When he grew old, we he become a magnificent person like that?
Michitaka tried to picture himself in ten years time, but it was impossible to imagine.
Translation notes
Kuge- title for the old nobiliy.
The head of the Seikanji house, in Meiji 17(1884), had been granted a peerage, and since then, that title had been allowed to pass through generations as a heredity title.
I think this may have been covered in a translation note for Kono Tsumi somewhere, but at this point in Japanese history, before the abolition of the peerage, there were two types of peerages granted, one that only was for the person is was granted to, the other where the title could be inherited by the sucessor of the title holder.
To the interior of the mansion, shoes and daily life, at that time, households that regularly wore western clothes and lived in a western way, were, in the capital, few.
Actually,almost a year ago to this day(it was in early March) I went and visted the Kyuu Maeda Mansion with a friend in while in Tokyo for a careers fair type thing. In a twitter post some time ago Izumi Katsura mentioned that she had based the Seikanji mansion off the Kyuu Maeda Mansion. There happened to be a free tour happening at the time we were there and when talking about one of the bedrooms the tour guide mentioned that they family that lived in the mansion lived a very western lifestyle and only took their shoes off before getting into bed and the like and everyone in the tour, except me and my friend, were Japanese, and were quite shocked by this, even in 2016…
Incidentally, Umineko no naku koro ni and Blue Morning also use the Kyuu Maeda mansion as a basis.
but he was still simply pouring water on a hot stone.
An idiom for something bound to fail due to inadequate effort
Seikanji Ichizoku Translations 