Four Seasons in Japan, page 1
About the Author
Nick Bradley holds a PhD from UEA focussing on the figure of the cat in Japanese literature. He lived in Japan for many years, where he worked as a translator, and currently teaches on the Creative Writing master’s programme at the University of Cambridge. His debut novel, The Cat and The City, was published in 2020.
Also by Nick Bradley
The Cat and The City
From the reviews for The Cat and The City
‘Touching, surprising and sometimes heartbreaking.’
Guardian
‘The key pleasure of reading this book is its sprightly vigour – cool but not hipsterish, ambitious but not pretentious – that evokes a similar liveliness in the reader. It makes you feel young again.’
The Times
‘Inventive, beguiling.’
Sunday Times
‘An ideal tonic for anyone craving far-flung adventure.’
Mail on Sunday
‘Intriguing … explores the dark underbelly of Japan.’
Independent
‘I wolfed down these interlocking stories of cats, Tokyo, loneliness and redemption. Congratulations to Nick Bradley on this vibrant and accomplished debut.’
David Mitchell
‘A love letter to Japan and its literature.’
Rowan Hisayo Buchanan, author of Harmless Like You
‘In a very impressive, finely observed debut, Nick Bradley masterfully weaves together seemingly disparate threads to conjure up a vivid tapestry.’
David Peace, author of The Tokyo Trilogy
www.penguin.co.uk
Nick Bradley
* * *
FOUR SEASONS IN JAPAN
Contents
Flo: Spring Sound of Water
Spring
Ayako vs. The Mountain: Part One
Flo: Summer
Summer
Ayako vs. The Mountain: Part Two
Flo: Autumn
Autumn
Ayako vs. The Mountain: Part Three
Flo: Winter
Winter
Ayako vs. The Mountain: The Final Push for the Summit
Translator’s Afterword
Proverbs
Acknowledgements
For
E. H. Bradley
and Pansy
Without Losing to the Rain
by Miyazawa Kenji (1931)
Translation by Nick Bradley
Without losing to the rain without losing to the wind
Neither beaten by snow nor summer’s heat
Keep a strong body absent of desire
Neither angry nor resentful always smiling calmly
Four cups of brown rice miso and a few vegetables each day
Observe all things impartially and selflessly
Look, listen, understand deeply never forget lessons learnt
Dwell in a humble thatched house in the shade of forest pines
To the east if there is a sick child go nurse them to health
To the west a weary mother go help her harvest rice
To the south a person dying go tell them there’s no need to fear
To the north a fight or squabble go tell them to make peace
In times of drought shed tears wander at a loss in cold summer
Called a nobody by all without praise or being noticed
That’s the kind of person I wish to be
FLO: SPRING
‘So what’s going on with you these days, Flo-chan?’ Kyoko took a sip from her beer and placed it back on the table, next to a bowl of edamame shells.
‘Yeah, what’s up?’ said Makoto, tapping ash on a plate of chicken bones before taking another drag on his cigarette. ‘You’ve seemed down recently.’
Flo gripped her glass of oolong tea and laughed awkwardly. ‘Down? I’m fine!’
Kyoko, Makoto and Flo were sitting around a low table in a Shinjuku izakaya famous for its imported beers. They’d come here together directly from their office. Flo had initially refused the invitation, citing a combination of exhaustion and not wanting to be amongst the crowds of cherry blossom viewers – it was peak hanami season. But then Kyoko had grabbed her by the arm and escorted her firmly towards the office door, like a security guard removing a troublemaker from the premises.
‘You’re coming with us,’ she said, ignoring Flo’s weak protests. ‘Whether you like it or not.’
Now that she was here, Flo had to admit it felt good to be somewhere other than work, home, or on her laptop in the neighbourhood café – the only three places she’d been spending time the past few months. Initially Kyoko and Makoto had suggested going to Ueno Park to sit out beneath the blossoms, and when Flo had begun a diatribe on how she thought sakura was overrated compared to the autumn leaves, Kyoko had interrupted her and insisted they go to their favourite izakaya instead. The small Japanese-style pub was sparsely decorated, with tatami reed matting floors and rustic wooden low tables. The air was thick with Makoto’s cigarette smoke, despite the restaurant’s tables being thinner with customers this evening.
‘You just don’t seem yourself recently,’ said Kyoko, a frown forming on her forehead. ‘You never come out with us any more. You don’t respond to my texts. Even the calligraphy teacher keeps asking why you don’t come to class. I had to lie to Chie-sensei and tell her you’d been sick.’
Flo didn’t say anything. She put her glass of oolong tea down and watched Makoto blow out a cloud of smoke in the direction of the table next to them. The two girls eating there scowled at him, but he remained oblivious.
Kyoko was dressed in her usual immaculate office clothes: pink Polo sweater and cream trousers, hair tied back in a neat ponytail and make-up perfectly understated, as ever. Flo always felt a little jealous of how effortless Kyoko looked, incredibly beautiful, without even trying. In contrast, Flo’s office clothes were shabby and old, definitely not the kind of clothes a Japanese employee could get away with wearing. Loose slacks and a collared shirt were about as smart as she could muster. Makoto looked like every other salaryman in Tokyo, the only unique addition being a classy maroon tie Kyoko had picked out for him in Ginza last month. He’d loosened the tie a little already.
‘I’m sorry if I’m being too direct,’ Kyoko said, her voice softening a little. Flo couldn’t help but smile at this – Kyoko was always direct! It was one of the things Flo appreciated about her. ‘I just worried that … I don’t know. That you didn’t want to be friends any more.’
‘No!’ Flo said, immediately alarmed. ‘Of course not!’
Kyoko was one of her closest friends in Tokyo. Flo wouldn’t say she was her ‘best’ friend – ‘best’ implied a degree of intimacy that she didn’t have with anyone in the city. Except for Yuki. When Flo and Kyoko had first started hanging out together outside of work, going to calligraphy lessons in Chiba, Flo had even been hopeful of – you know – something more with her. But thankfully, before Flo could do anything to embarrass herself, she’d discovered that Kyoko was seeing a guy she was really into. Luckily, that guy was Makoto, an affable co-worker whom Flo already knew and liked, and Flo was more than happy to hang out with the pair of them, never feeling like a third wheel.
Until several weeks ago, Wednesday night dinner had been a ritual for the three, especially since Flo had cut down on the number of days she came into the office. Flo was in the enviable position of finishing her working week on a Wednesday, using Thursday, Friday and Saturday to work on her literary translation projects. But Flo hadn’t been out with them in ages. When was the last time all three had hung out? A month ago? Two?
‘Even Makoto has noticed you’re different,’ said Kyoko quickly, switching from Japanese to English in an effort to cut him out of the conversation. ‘And he’s usually clueless about women.’
Makoto strained his ears to listen to Kyoko’s superior English, and just about caught what she was saying. Kyoko snickered at his efforts.
‘It’s true,’ he said in English, humbly yet with a certain awkwardness.
Poor Makoto. He was sitting next to Kyoko, both of them on the other side of the table from Flo. He was about to tap the ash out on the plate of chicken bones again, but Kyoko slapped him on the wrist gently. He bowed his head slightly, and reached for the ashtray she was sliding his way.
‘Come on, Flo-chan,’ said Kyoko kindly, switching back to Japanese. ‘You can tell us.’
Flo bit her lip. She glanced down at her phone – no new messages.
Flo was, in general, open and honest, but she’d always kept her personal life private, even with these two. Above all, she didn’t feel like she could talk to them about Yuki. Would Kyoko and Makoto be surprised that Flo dated women? Probably not – nothing they had ever said or done indicated otherwise – but Flo had never mentioned it to them, deeming it her own business, and now they’d known each other so long she had no idea how to even begin raising the subject. It was as though she’d built a giant wall around herself, an impenetrable barrier, and the possibility of breaking it all down to let anyone in felt absolutely terrifying. It felt much safer – more secure – to be closed off. So no, she’d never talked to them about Yuki. Not about how they’d met, nor about Yuki moving in with her, and especially not about Yuki’s plan to move to New York in a month and work in a bookshop while attending an English language school. Flo’s relationship with Yuki, more than anything, was what was causing her stress these days.
So no, Flo couldn’t talk about any of that. Instead, she did what anyone else
‘Just …’ she began.
‘Yes?’ Makoto nodded.
‘Go on,’ said Kyoko, unable to hide her eagerness.
‘Well, I’ve been having some doubts recently.’
‘What kind of doubts?’ asked Kyoko instantly.
Flo’s shoulders dipped, and she looked down at the table, unable to maintain eye contact with either of them.
‘It’s going to sound melodramatic.’ She paused. ‘But … I’m just not sure what I’m doing with my life.’
Kyoko and Makoto both sat quietly, waiting for her to keep going. Makoto stubbed out his cigarette. Flo continued.
‘I mean – I don’t know if I get any pleasure from – you know – what I’m doing any more.’
‘Oh, Flo-chan.’ Creases appeared on Kyoko’s perfect face as a deep look of concern rose to the surface. ‘Is the office job getting in the way of your translation work? Because if it is, we can cut down your hours again. We can—’
‘No,’ said Flo, shaking her head. ‘It’s not that.’
‘You miss Portland?’ asked Makoto. ‘You miss your family?’
‘Well …’ Flo stuttered and stumbled over her words. ‘I do miss my mom, yes. Of course. And sometimes I miss Portland. But that’s not what’s bothering me.’
‘Tell us!’ Kyoko and Makoto both leant forward at the exact same time. It was hard for Flo not to feel like she was being interrogated, but she couldn’t hold it against them. They were her friends, and that’s what friends did, wasn’t it? They cared about each other. How inconsiderate she’d been, blowing them off for so long.
Flo pulled up the sleeves of the sweater she was wearing and rested her bare arms on the edge of the table. ‘It’s just … I’m not sure if I get any joy from reading any more.’ She stopped, feeling stupid once the words were out there. Kyoko and Makoto looked puzzled, but she carried on. ‘I mean, I always thought that literature and translation were the most important things in my life. I worked so hard to translate that book, and get it published—’
‘It’s a wonderful book,’ Kyoko interrupted, ‘and you did an amazing job. You’re an incredible translator …’ Makoto gently nudged her, before lighting another cigarette. ‘Sorry,’ said Kyoko, leaning back slightly. ‘Please, go on.’
‘No, it’s okay,’ Flo said. Flo was never good with Kyoko’s praise. Or praise from anyone, for that matter. How hollow words sounded! But again, that was something she should never share. ‘I’m happy with the work I did, but now I feel – well – kind of empty. I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but … God, I feel like such a whiny whinger right now. Oh woe is me!’ Flo shook her head before taking another sip of her tea. What a pity party she’d thrown for herself! She should’ve just kept her mouth shut instead of burdening them like this.
‘You don’t sound like that, Flo-chan,’ said Kyoko quietly. ‘Not at all. Any problem is a problem, no matter how big or small.’
‘I think I understand how you feel,’ said Makoto, nodding thoughtfully.
Kyoko narrowed her eyes at Makoto. ‘What do you mean?’
Makoto sucked his teeth in mock irritation. ‘Flo’s achieved her dream.’
‘What do you know about her dreams?’ asked Kyoko, rolling her eyes.
‘Well, not specifically her dreams. But I do know a thing or two about dreams in general.’ He took a deep drag on his cigarette and blew another huge cloud of smoke at the girls on the other table, who this time fanned the air in front of their noses and grimaced. But Makoto carried on, in his own little world. ‘It’s a dangerous thing sometimes, achieving your dream.’
‘Who the hell do you think you are?’ Kyoko scoffed and shook her head. ‘Sitting there, smoking and trying to make deep philosophical pronouncements. You’re acting like you’re some kind of Hollywood movie star. Don’t interrupt! Flo-chan was in the middle of explaining how she felt, and there you go, yabbering on about dreams as if you know exactly what she’s talking about. Be quiet. Listen.’
Makoto shook his head. ‘But I think I know what she means—’
‘Let her finish!’
‘How about letting me finish?!’
Flo couldn’t help but laugh a little at their pretend bickering. She knew they were doing it in jest for her benefit – like a manzai comedy duo – to cheer her up and raise her spirits. She leant forwards, raising her hand. ‘Please don’t argue. I just mean … I think Makoto’s kind of right. What do you do after you’ve achieved your biggest dream? What do you do next?’
Makoto lit another cigarette and sat back, folding his arms smugly. ‘I thought that’s what you meant.’ He gave another quick look at Kyoko, who was wobbling her head, mimicking Makoto’s words. He ignored her, looking at Flo again and carrying on. ‘It’s like these guys who enter Street Fighter II competitions.’
‘How?’ demanded Kyoko, sounding genuinely exasperated this time. ‘How is it like that?’
‘Let me finish!’ he said, losing his cool a little.
‘Everything with you is about Street Fighter II,’ grumbled Kyoko. ‘You relate everything to that game. You’re not even that good at it. I whip your butt every time.’
‘Shhh!’
Flo laughed again, as Makoto and Kyoko tried to keep straight faces.
‘What I’m trying to say,’ said Makoto, ‘is that after you achieve one dream, you make another … maybe …’ He trailed off lamely.
Kyoko sighed. ‘We had to listen to you just now. All of that … for what?’
Makoto tilted his head. ‘Maybe it sounded more profound and helpful in my mind, before I said it.’
‘Maybe you should listen more and talk less.’ Kyoko scowled at Makoto, then grinned at Flo, who smiled back – it was cheering her up slightly, but there was still more to say.
‘I just keep reading these books that don’t inspire me.’
Kyoko nodded.
Flo continued. ‘I need to find the right one to translate, but it doesn’t seem to come.’
Makoto stubbed out his cigarette, and breathed smoke out through his nostrils.
‘It’ll come, Flo-chan,’ he said, looking at Kyoko as he spoke. ‘The right one will come along at the right time. You just have to be patient.’
Flo rode the train home later that evening after parting ways with Kyoko and Makoto inside the gates at Shinjuku Station. Kyoko had gripped her arm tenderly as they said goodbye, while Makoto smiled and waved before they both walked along the busy concourse to their platform. In general, Flo tried her best to avoid the last train at night, ever since she’d been in a jam-packed carriage when someone had thrown up. Not an experience she was keen to repeat.
Sitting now, Flo checked her phone mindlessly again, but there were no messages. She scrolled through social media, but there were no notifications. Instead, there were just photos of things that vaguely held her interest – reminding her that she was not on holiday right now, that she hadn’t eaten out at a fancy restaurant in a long time, that she didn’t have a baby, that she wasn’t married, and that with Yuki leaving next month she was soon to be very alone, unless she went too. Her most recent post was from a couple of months ago, something about a review of the book she’d translated in a minor publication. Recently, she’d been losing the will to even promote her own work. Not that there was that much of her own work these days, anyway.
She started writing out a translation-themed tweet on her phone – she’d been continually adding to an old thread for some time, about her favourite Japanese words:
(komorebi) – sunlight filtering through the trees
But everyone knew that word now, didn’t they? She had seen it on numerous blog posts with titles like Top 10 Untranslatable Words! Ironically, all ten words listed were promptly translated in the article. She deleted the komorebi tweet and tried another:
