Sinnesspiel (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sinnesspiel) wrote2019-11-28 09:16 am
sinnesspiel) wrote2019-11-28 09:16 am
Shiki Novel Translations 3.14.2
2
The twenty second was a refreshing, clear Autumn day. Ritsuko left the house in mourning clothes. The Ozaki family roo wore mourning garbs, and the attendants were likewise a melancholy monochrome. It was such a common sight that it was like part of living in this village.
She met with the staff in the reception area where they divided the days tasks. She looked into the tatami room to express her condolences to Toshio, though his pallor was immeasurably improved from the night before. That said, the tinge of emaciation hadn't been lifted. While he seemed at ease on the one hand, he also seemed in another way lethargic.
"How is your body holding up?" Ritsuko asked, to which he gave a wry smile. Somehow tinged with sarcasm, it was his usual smile.
"Probably won't die. Guys like me end up living long lives."
That's true, Ritsuko murmured with a smile.
"But honestly, it might be easier being holed up in the examination room. All I can think is how much I want this torture to hurry up and end."
Talking as he usually did, the faint smile he'd shown before returned to his earliere xpression. Kyouko's parents, who had rushed into town, were a pitifil, wailing sight.
Mutou and his wife Shizuko manned the reception desk, while Ritsuko and the others kept to the parlor. Satoko was nowhere to be seen.
"Yasuyo-san, is Sato-chan here?"
"She hasn't come, has she? It's possible she might not come today, I guess."
That's true, Kiyomi sighed. "With how she was yesterday, she really might not. I wonder if Sato-chan's going to quit, too. It's getting lonely."
"Don't say that..." Ritsuko tried to say, but it seemed that Yasuyo and Kiyomi had already prepared themselves for it.
"The doctor may have his reasons, but Sato-chan couldn't stand for that. She was such good friends with Yuki-chan after all. And then the Madame was like that, there's all that happened with the villagers, I'm sure there's a lot that she's just had it up to here with," Kiyomi said, to which Yasuyo nodded as well.
"I'm sure a part of her must be thinking just that. If these were normal circumstances, she could tell herself to do it for the money, at least. But she left home to come here and give up her days off, doing a hard job under dangerous conditions. A girl's bound to rethink some things, to wonder how long she wants to go on like this, no doubt."
"......That's true."
"And Satomi-chan isn't from this village in the first place. It's good of her to have given as much as she has. But I can't help but think she's gotten fed up with it by now. And if she has, well, we certainly can't fault her for that now can we?"
Ritsuko noded. While she thought that it was inevitable, she still felt forlorn. She couldn't help but feel that she was losing what was precious to her, one by one. She was being isolated. She was being separated, cut off, further and further.
She thought of the highway in the back of her mind. Disappearing with the end of the road in the morning fog was the "every day" Ritsuko had that one summer day.
The group in mourning garbs flowed north. Tatsu watched from her storefront.
So at last the Ozaki Hospital too had a funeral. It seemed just the day before that Tamo had a funeral as well; it was starting to feel like it had finally reached the heart of the village.
"To think, the Ozaki's having a funeral, too."
Yaeko was in deep thought. They are indeed, said Takeko, her eyes following the procession of people funneling towards the funeral. Just as the silence was growing uncomfortable, Oitarou arrived.
"Tatsu-san, Tatsu-san," Oitarou insisted vigorously. "Did you hear? That Ikumi of the Ito's is gone?"
"No," Tatsu said, eyes wait. "By gone do you mean she died? Come to think of it, I haven't seen her around lately."
"That's just it. I mean, I haven't seen her in a while myself, I was wondering what'd happened to her. When I tried stopping by, the house was completely abandoned. When I asked the neighbors, it sounds like about a week back she left here to go live with a relative."
Tatsu balked. "Wasn't that about the time she went to directly confront them at Kanemasa?"
"Yup, sounds like it. Few days after that nobody had seen her, it sounds like. Her daugher Tamae-san was left behind, said she'd gone off to some relative somewhere, it sounds like."
"After making a scene like that, must be she couldn't stand to be here anymore," Yaeko said with a sigh. Takeko shrugged.
"I never knew her to have such a decent sense of shame, myself."
"Even Ikumi-san would have to be embarrassed by that," Oitarou said. "With things being what they are, can't help but think saying suddenly she had something to tend to at her relative's is pretty fishy, myself. But it sounds like suddenly, day before yesterday, Tamae-san left saying she was going to where her mother was too."
"Well dear me," Yaeko sighed. "My, but it's getting lonely here."
Takeko looked down her nose at Yaeko as she sneered. "What? You'd always hated them."
"Even so!"
Tatsu's brows furrowed. She'd never heard a word about any of Ikumi's relatives. She must have had some, but she was more than likely estranged. It stuck with her, those few days following her storming Kanemasa. While normally someone from the village disappearing was no longer a rarity, the timing was too strange not to worry.
(Could this be...)
Tatsu looked to the people proceeding to the funeral.
Even supposing Ikumi could feel shame, she didn't think that she was the type of woman to go into hiding. Tatsu knew that if she had felt any disgrace, she was the type of woman who would hide it behind a boisterous temper.
(This might not be some mere trivial gossip.)
She stormed Kanemasa, called out the mater. And then she disappeared. It was possible that the master of Kanemasa had something done to her. To make sure that nothing further was said against him. ---Which only made sense if Ikumi had been correct.
Tatsu turned her eyes towards Oitarou and the others. Best not to say that outloud. It was nothing more than speculation, and if it was right, she would be the next to disappear.
Something might have seemed off about Tomiko--the first to notice it was Kanami.
She had been keeping Shihori's night vigil. Keeping watch over her at night, and having a funeral on the third night, the faces of Motoko's relatives were dark. The monk who had come from Mizobe for the night vigil also had a bewildered expression. Motoko broke down crying in absolute hopeless despair while Tomiko sat beside her lifelessly. Of course she must have felt something, it would be understandable if she were so despondant as to seem numb, and yet one couldn't escape the impression that her expression was more simply spaced out than anything. It was like she didn't understand that she was at an all night vigil for her own grandchild.
It wasn't unheard of for an emotional shock to be what set off senility in the elderly, but she wondered if that was really what it was. Tomiko's reactions were dull enough, her emotions blunted enough that one couldn't help but doubt that was it.
"Say," Kamani said softly to Motoko. "Your mother-in-law. Is she alright? Isn't something off?"
Motoko shook her head, but Kanami had the impression that Motoko wasn't hearing anything she said.
"Hey, more importantly, do you think that Shigeki's alright? It might be better to get out of the village. If something, if on the off chance anything happens to Shigeki, I..." She sobbed as she held onto Kanami's skirt. Kanami didn't have the words to respond to that. Was there anyone, now, who could guarantee that the village was safe?
Taking in the exprssion on Kanami's face in her silence, Motoko crumbled into a cry.
"It's too cruel! They're my children! So why, why is anybody and everybody trying to take them from me?"
"Motoko, nobody's thinking that at all."
You lie! Motoko cried out tearfully. Kanami couldn't help but see Motko's state as a dangerous one.
"...It might be better to take Shigeki-kun out of the village for a while after all."
Tentatively, Motoko raised her face. Kanami smiled. She would have liked to have encouraged her to maybe go to her family's home for a while, but unfortunately Motoko's family was from the village. Her parents were already gone, though her older brother was in the village with a family of his own.
"......So you think so too?"
"I don't especially think that it's a matter of what anyone thinks you shoud or shouldn't do. But, a lot has happened to you, and you need a calm place to sort out your feelings. It might be for the best to go to a relative's house and just do nothing for a while."
That's right, she managed to nod, when suddenly she made a sour face. "---But, it's no use. I can't. I won't be allowed to do such a thing, not by my father-in-law."
"What if you try talking to him about it, at least?"
It's no use, Motoko said frightfully. "....It's no use. I can't do something like that."
"Why not?" She tried to ask, but Motoko shook her head definitively. It's no use, she only repeated, helplessly.
The twenty second was a refreshing, clear Autumn day. Ritsuko left the house in mourning clothes. The Ozaki family roo wore mourning garbs, and the attendants were likewise a melancholy monochrome. It was such a common sight that it was like part of living in this village.
She met with the staff in the reception area where they divided the days tasks. She looked into the tatami room to express her condolences to Toshio, though his pallor was immeasurably improved from the night before. That said, the tinge of emaciation hadn't been lifted. While he seemed at ease on the one hand, he also seemed in another way lethargic.
"How is your body holding up?" Ritsuko asked, to which he gave a wry smile. Somehow tinged with sarcasm, it was his usual smile.
"Probably won't die. Guys like me end up living long lives."
That's true, Ritsuko murmured with a smile.
"But honestly, it might be easier being holed up in the examination room. All I can think is how much I want this torture to hurry up and end."
Talking as he usually did, the faint smile he'd shown before returned to his earliere xpression. Kyouko's parents, who had rushed into town, were a pitifil, wailing sight.
Mutou and his wife Shizuko manned the reception desk, while Ritsuko and the others kept to the parlor. Satoko was nowhere to be seen.
"Yasuyo-san, is Sato-chan here?"
"She hasn't come, has she? It's possible she might not come today, I guess."
That's true, Kiyomi sighed. "With how she was yesterday, she really might not. I wonder if Sato-chan's going to quit, too. It's getting lonely."
"Don't say that..." Ritsuko tried to say, but it seemed that Yasuyo and Kiyomi had already prepared themselves for it.
"The doctor may have his reasons, but Sato-chan couldn't stand for that. She was such good friends with Yuki-chan after all. And then the Madame was like that, there's all that happened with the villagers, I'm sure there's a lot that she's just had it up to here with," Kiyomi said, to which Yasuyo nodded as well.
"I'm sure a part of her must be thinking just that. If these were normal circumstances, she could tell herself to do it for the money, at least. But she left home to come here and give up her days off, doing a hard job under dangerous conditions. A girl's bound to rethink some things, to wonder how long she wants to go on like this, no doubt."
"......That's true."
"And Satomi-chan isn't from this village in the first place. It's good of her to have given as much as she has. But I can't help but think she's gotten fed up with it by now. And if she has, well, we certainly can't fault her for that now can we?"
Ritsuko noded. While she thought that it was inevitable, she still felt forlorn. She couldn't help but feel that she was losing what was precious to her, one by one. She was being isolated. She was being separated, cut off, further and further.
She thought of the highway in the back of her mind. Disappearing with the end of the road in the morning fog was the "every day" Ritsuko had that one summer day.
The group in mourning garbs flowed north. Tatsu watched from her storefront.
So at last the Ozaki Hospital too had a funeral. It seemed just the day before that Tamo had a funeral as well; it was starting to feel like it had finally reached the heart of the village.
"To think, the Ozaki's having a funeral, too."
Yaeko was in deep thought. They are indeed, said Takeko, her eyes following the procession of people funneling towards the funeral. Just as the silence was growing uncomfortable, Oitarou arrived.
"Tatsu-san, Tatsu-san," Oitarou insisted vigorously. "Did you hear? That Ikumi of the Ito's is gone?"
"No," Tatsu said, eyes wait. "By gone do you mean she died? Come to think of it, I haven't seen her around lately."
"That's just it. I mean, I haven't seen her in a while myself, I was wondering what'd happened to her. When I tried stopping by, the house was completely abandoned. When I asked the neighbors, it sounds like about a week back she left here to go live with a relative."
Tatsu balked. "Wasn't that about the time she went to directly confront them at Kanemasa?"
"Yup, sounds like it. Few days after that nobody had seen her, it sounds like. Her daugher Tamae-san was left behind, said she'd gone off to some relative somewhere, it sounds like."
"After making a scene like that, must be she couldn't stand to be here anymore," Yaeko said with a sigh. Takeko shrugged.
"I never knew her to have such a decent sense of shame, myself."
"Even Ikumi-san would have to be embarrassed by that," Oitarou said. "With things being what they are, can't help but think saying suddenly she had something to tend to at her relative's is pretty fishy, myself. But it sounds like suddenly, day before yesterday, Tamae-san left saying she was going to where her mother was too."
"Well dear me," Yaeko sighed. "My, but it's getting lonely here."
Takeko looked down her nose at Yaeko as she sneered. "What? You'd always hated them."
"Even so!"
Tatsu's brows furrowed. She'd never heard a word about any of Ikumi's relatives. She must have had some, but she was more than likely estranged. It stuck with her, those few days following her storming Kanemasa. While normally someone from the village disappearing was no longer a rarity, the timing was too strange not to worry.
(Could this be...)
Tatsu looked to the people proceeding to the funeral.
Even supposing Ikumi could feel shame, she didn't think that she was the type of woman to go into hiding. Tatsu knew that if she had felt any disgrace, she was the type of woman who would hide it behind a boisterous temper.
(This might not be some mere trivial gossip.)
She stormed Kanemasa, called out the mater. And then she disappeared. It was possible that the master of Kanemasa had something done to her. To make sure that nothing further was said against him. ---Which only made sense if Ikumi had been correct.
Tatsu turned her eyes towards Oitarou and the others. Best not to say that outloud. It was nothing more than speculation, and if it was right, she would be the next to disappear.
Something might have seemed off about Tomiko--the first to notice it was Kanami.
She had been keeping Shihori's night vigil. Keeping watch over her at night, and having a funeral on the third night, the faces of Motoko's relatives were dark. The monk who had come from Mizobe for the night vigil also had a bewildered expression. Motoko broke down crying in absolute hopeless despair while Tomiko sat beside her lifelessly. Of course she must have felt something, it would be understandable if she were so despondant as to seem numb, and yet one couldn't escape the impression that her expression was more simply spaced out than anything. It was like she didn't understand that she was at an all night vigil for her own grandchild.
It wasn't unheard of for an emotional shock to be what set off senility in the elderly, but she wondered if that was really what it was. Tomiko's reactions were dull enough, her emotions blunted enough that one couldn't help but doubt that was it.
"Say," Kamani said softly to Motoko. "Your mother-in-law. Is she alright? Isn't something off?"
Motoko shook her head, but Kanami had the impression that Motoko wasn't hearing anything she said.
"Hey, more importantly, do you think that Shigeki's alright? It might be better to get out of the village. If something, if on the off chance anything happens to Shigeki, I..." She sobbed as she held onto Kanami's skirt. Kanami didn't have the words to respond to that. Was there anyone, now, who could guarantee that the village was safe?
Taking in the exprssion on Kanami's face in her silence, Motoko crumbled into a cry.
"It's too cruel! They're my children! So why, why is anybody and everybody trying to take them from me?"
"Motoko, nobody's thinking that at all."
You lie! Motoko cried out tearfully. Kanami couldn't help but see Motko's state as a dangerous one.
"...It might be better to take Shigeki-kun out of the village for a while after all."
Tentatively, Motoko raised her face. Kanami smiled. She would have liked to have encouraged her to maybe go to her family's home for a while, but unfortunately Motoko's family was from the village. Her parents were already gone, though her older brother was in the village with a family of his own.
"......So you think so too?"
"I don't especially think that it's a matter of what anyone thinks you shoud or shouldn't do. But, a lot has happened to you, and you need a calm place to sort out your feelings. It might be for the best to go to a relative's house and just do nothing for a while."
That's right, she managed to nod, when suddenly she made a sour face. "---But, it's no use. I can't. I won't be allowed to do such a thing, not by my father-in-law."
"What if you try talking to him about it, at least?"
It's no use, Motoko said frightfully. "....It's no use. I can't do something like that."
"Why not?" She tried to ask, but Motoko shook her head definitively. It's no use, she only repeated, helplessly.
no subject
Is a roo a thing, or is this a typo? "The Ozaki family roo wore mourning garbs." (first paragraph).
Also: "Talking as he usually did, the faint smile he'd shown before returned to his *earliere* *xpression*. Kyouko's parents, who had rushed into town, were a *pitifil*, wailing sight." (seventh paragraph)