“That’s why I’m telling you to come over here.” “Don’t talk so loudly. . .
. You’ll just make things worse. I’m sorry.”
“I’ll go. I’m going, so—please. Just come and say good-bye to me”
Takako lifted her hand from the fence and hurried to the other side of the
street, as if she were escaping from something. Fujiki ran after her and
sheltered her with his umbrella.
“How far do I have to go? You’ll kill me if you come here again, you
know.”
Takako stopped at the corner of the tree-lined avenue, planning to part
with him there. Then she cried out, “Oh!”
“I can’t—oh, let me go, please let me go. It’s our neighbor.”
Takako broke away from Fujiki and ran straight toward Chiba.
Chiba was startled at the paleness of Takako’s face.
“Why Takako, what’s wrong?” He stopped and let her get in under his
umbrella.
“I’m so sorry—that man . . .” Takako murmured, nearly collapsing onto
him.
“What did he do?” Chiba looked in the direction Fujiki had gone.
“No, it was me. . . .”
“Well, he’s gone. Shall we go home?”
“It’s me—I’m no good. I’m no good.”
Takako made no move to start walking. Chiba looked down at her, his
eyebrows pinched together, puzzled. She felt an impulse welling up within
her—not to confess, but to make an appeal.
“I—I had an affair with that man,” she said. Suddenly her chest grew
light, as if she had spit out poison. She felt a sense of freedom from herself
