4.
Utako was sleeping with her back to him when Jiro woke up the next
morning. Her legs were bent up slightly toward her chest.
Gazing from behind at her rather childlike form as she slept, Jiro felt a
tiny smile spring to his lips. He put out a hand and lightly touched her hair.
Utako turned to face him. Jiro was surprised at her sensitivity and drew
his hand back, but she hadn’t awakened.
There were no gaps between the sliding storm doors, so the room was
only dimly lit .Jiro lay looking at Utako’s face, and a love like that he had
felt in the old days came welling up within him. He had the impression that
her face hadn’t changed at all.
Jiro shut his eyes, but he didn’t feel like going back to sleep, so he got up
and went to the bath. Utako was lying awake in bed when he returned.
“Have you been to the bath already? You didn’t wake me up?”
“It's nine, you know.”
“Nine? . . . How embarrassing I haven’t slept so well in ages.”
“Well, that’s good. And last night, too—you were asleep before I was,
weren’t you? It must have been about twelve.”
“Nine hours. Oh, I feel so good . . . .”
Utako was savoring her comfort, and took her time getting out of bed.
“You were sleeping with your back to me, all scrunched up.”
“Was I? . . .”
“Perhaps it’s a habit. You must sleep with your back to Someya.”
“I wonder.” Utako sat up and stared at Jiro.
It was a long time before she returned from the bath.
