In the distance, she heard the roar of the fire.
From the Rokumu Slope behind the Zenko Temple, the winding road up the mountain gained altitude steadily. Making a wide detour around Mount Omine, it came out all at once on the Iizuna Plateau, from which point it became a level road called the Birdline, with many straightaways, cutting through a forest of larches toward the Togakushi Mountains. Ahead of them, Togakushi West Peak was already showing its mysterious face.
Tachibana had heard that this "Birdline" had been constructed along practically all of the route once followed by the so-called Old Road, which had served as an approach for worshippers to the Togakushi Shrines, and he was now whizzing along comfortably in a car on the same route up which he had fled thirty-eight years ago. Since the fall of 1964, when the Birdline was completed, Togakushi had ceased to be isolated by the surrounding mountains.
"This is the first time you've been to Togakushi, isn't it, Professor Tachibana?" asked Shimizu, who was sitting next to him.
"Uh, I was here for just a little while many years ago."
"Were you really? As a matter of fact, I thought that was a look of fond reminiscence on your face. Well then, I don't need to tell you about the place, do I?"
With a rueful smile, Tachibana realized that he must indeed have been looking sentimental.
"Anyway, you certainly are a real life-saver, agreeing to come along like this," said Shimizu for the tenth time. "When Shiraishi told me he couldn't make it after all, I was really in a spot. A clumsy oaf like myself certainly wouldn't have been welcome there alone. You'll make a much better impression. This should get us a lot of good will. Should make the sponsors pretty happy, too."
"You make me sound like a male geisha," laughed Tachibana.
"Oh no, please don't take it like that. It's your reputation that I'm counting on. It was because of that that I asked you to join me. I'm not kidding you."
"I don't mind."
"Of course, like it or not, there come times when not only the administrators, but the professors as well do have to play male geisha." But it was obvious from Shimizu's smile that he didn't dislike it too much.
T—University, where Tomohiro Tachibana taught, was at the top of the second rank of private universities, but it had established affiliated high schools all over the country and put so much effort into seeing that they all had good baseball teams that the joke was going around that its high schools would soon be taking over the nationwide high school baseball tournaments. The university had become better known for baseball than for learning.
Shimizu, the university president, held a Doctor of Science degree from Imperial University and was a scientist of undisputed reputation, but he had found his true calling as an administrator. He showed great skill in negotiation with outside organizations, and when it came to getting his own professors to do something, he was an excellent persuader. There was something about the man that made it impossible to dislike him.
Having wanted to establish an affiliated high school in Nagano City for a long time, he had jumped at the chance to scratch the back of a member of the education subcommittee of the lower house of the Diet elected from the First District of Nagano, a man named Shishido. Hearing that Shishido wanted to build a golf course somewhere in the area, Shimizu had offered his cooperation in return for assistance in obtaining permission to build the school. Now he was hurriedly responding to Shishido's rush invitation to the first meeting of the organization to promote the golf project, a meeting which was actually a party to entertain local people of influence, from whom Shishido was expecting considerable opposition.
Tachibana had been dragged along in spite of his protest that he did not even play golf. "You can't know whether you might enjoy it or not unless you pick up a club and give it a try," Shimizu had said, unconcerned. "And anyway, the enemy should be satisfied if we just put in an appearance."
Shimizu had made it sound like a picnic, an invitation that would not bear refusal. But before they arrived, Tachibana had thought the meeting was to be held somewhere in Nagano City, and evidently Shimizu had made the same assumption. It was only in the car sent to meet them at Nagano Station that they learned they were going to Togakushi. Shimizu had been quite pleased, but if Tachibana had known, he would most likely have refused the invitation, whatever the consequences. Togakushi held altogether too many bitter memories for him.
He had visited Togakushi once more, after the war, in the summer of 1947. His tuberculosis had gotten worse on the Southern Front, where it had been compounded by malaria, but just when he began to think he was finished, the war ended. After this narrow escape from death, he was late being repatriated and had to spend a long time in the hospital even after that. But as soon as he was able to get around, he insisted on going to Togakushi. He was ordered by the doctor, of course, to stay put, but he was not to be stopped, and in the end he left the hospital without the doctor's permission.
In the two and a half years since he had seen it, though, the Hoko Shrine village had changed completely. Looking up in the direction of the shrine from the bus stop at the bottom of the slope, he could not believe his eyes. The rows of priests' houses were gone without a trace, and in their stead was nothing more than a scattering of poor, barracks-type huts. He rushed frantically up the slope, only to find that the Tendoh house was gone with the rest. Of that imposing structure with the secret room in which he had hidden, not a pillar was left, only the bare, dark-red scorched foundation. That was the cruelest stroke of all.
A woman in traditional work pantaloons had come out of the hut across the street pushing a bicycle, and Tachibana ran quickly over to her. When she turned around, her face looked familiar. He remembered her as the daughter-in-law of the Otomo household, whom he had occasionally seen from a window. But she didn't recognize him. That was natural enough, since he had seldom gone out, and had stayed hidden all the while he was evading the draft.
"Excuse me," he said, "could you help me?"
"Yes?" she said.
"The house that used to be here, the Tendoh house, what happened to it?"
"The Tendoh house?" She gave him an enquiring look. "You don't know about the fire, then?"
"Fire?"
"Yes. The big fire the year the war ended. The whole neighborhood burned down."
"There was a big fire?"
"Yes." The woman's look asked what else there was to say.
"What happened to the people in the Tendoh house?"
"You mean, to Taki?"
"Well, uh, yes... there was someone named Taki, and uh..." mumbled Tachibana vaguely, before he realized that he was being so cowardly as to try to conceal his identity. Angry at himself, he spoke up. "Yes, that's right. The young lady named Taki and the elderly couple who lived there."
"You want to know where they are now?"
"If you don't mind."
The woman looked troubled. "I'm not sure, but I heard they died."
"You mean, in the fire?"
"No, no, not in the fire."
"Then when, and where?"
"I'm really not sure."
"But you do know what happened to them after the fire, don't you?" Annoyed that she wouldn't give him a straight answer, Tachibana raised his voice.
"Who are you, sir?" she asked, looking up at him.
It was Tachibana's turn to try to avoid a straight answer. "Well, I stayed here once, and I haven't been back to Togakushi for a long time, so I..."
"Well then, it's better that you don't know. I'm very sorry, sir."
With a deep bow, he hurried off, imagining he saw the light of recognition in her eyes. Tachibana the returned soldier,