Biblia Koshodou no Jiken Techou:Volume 1 Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - Natsume Sōseki "Sōseki's Complete Collection, New Edition" (Iwanami Shoten))

I was bad at reading books ever since I was young.

Of course, books that were typed out were even more of a no-go for me. After a long time of flipping through pages and reading every single word, I would feel extremely frustrated for some reason. My heart would scream loudly as it beat, my palms would be moist, and in the end, my mood would go bad. I might say that I was a bibliophobic..

Thus, I suffered a lot in school. No matter what kind of subject, there were always textbooks with printed words on them. It was alright when I had to take notes during lessons, but my English and Modern Language grades were horrible since I had to memorize them. I could feel the hairs on my neck stand whenever I hear the term 'Reading Comprehension'.

I told my mother and my teachers about this, but all I got was some encouragement as they told me that it could not be helped that I hated books. It was natural for people to have their own strengths and weaknesses, so I did not have to worry too much.

I was really grateful for their words, but it was a complete misunderstanding of my problem. I do not hate reading books, but I just cannot read on even if I wanted to. Whenever I read, my body would start to resist.

Part of the reason why this misunderstanding was never cleared was because I was bad at explaining, and more importantly, because I looked as if I had no relations with reading at all. Whenever I went, my large, tall figure and my muscular body just looked so outstanding. Anyone who saw me would think that I was a physical-type. I was always chosen to take part in games meet and sports festivals, and I would often be invited to join sports clubs.

However, I had no real interest in sports. I wanted to read. I often took up the role of a library committee member, and did not feel that it was tedious to tidy up the library books as everyone thought. At that time, I enjoyed staring at the spines of the books from one end of the bookshelf. There was no problem if I did not open the pages, but imagined it.

By the way, this 'nature' did not come naturally. There is a cause behind this thinking. It is a story about Sōseki's complete collection, and a prelude to my story.

It was something that happened before I entered primary school. On a soppy day in spring, I was reading alone in the guest room on the second floor.

I suppose I should introduce my home.

My home is located in Ōfuna, a place located right between Yokohama City and Kamakura City, and was a must-see tourist spot for those riding the East Japan Railway Company line from Tokyo.

There was a large Guanyin statueon the hill near Ōfuna station. It looked very impressive when lit by light, but the white face that protruded between the trees was somewhat scary. However, except for this Guanyin watching over the land 24 hours a day, it was a rather plain town.

In the past, there used to be another treasured attraction other than the Guanyin statue. It was the cinematography studio, one of the rare few in Japan. It was abandoned when I went to middle school, but I would often hear my grandmother mention about it. It once supported the Golden Age of Japanese cinematography, but I did not know anything about it as I was not familiar with movies.

The "Goura Eatery" located beside the cinematography studio was my house, and my family's specialty dish was very ordinary: katsudon with green peas and pickles.

My great grandfather was the one who opened this eatery, and my grandmother took over afterwards. The staff from the studio would come over here in the past, and our shop was bustling with business, but after I grew up, not many customers who came by to our shop.

It was not because the shop had bad ratings, but because the number of workers there decreased as the number of films taken at the cinematography studio decreased. Grandmother fired her staff and started to run the shop alone.

We stayed at the second level of this eatery, and the ones living here were my grandmother, my mother and I. My father had died before I was born, and my mother bore me when she returned back to her hometown. On a side note, my grandmother was the one who gave me the name "Daisuke".

As my mother worked at a food company in Yokohama, my grandmother was in charge of my upbringing. She would make 10 lectures for every single mistake I made, ranging from day-to-day chores to the bow angle. As the only grandchild, I did not remember being pampered before.

My grandmother had an ample chin, and looked rather kind, but her stare was exceptionally sharp like Guanyin on the hill.

Anyway, it was just like what was written. That day, I went to the living room on the second floor to look for picture books. I remembered that the book was “Guri and Gura”, and until that point, I was still an obedient child who loved to read books. I not only read picture books, but also a few children books that had furigana on the titles, and I remembered that I would harass the adults to buy me some new books whenever we went to the bookshop.

I got tired of reading all the books at home, and I was feeling bored. Lunchtime was ending, and there were the sounds of the customers chatting away and the television downstairs. I wanted to go outside, but I could not do so as it was raining outside.

I walked out of the living room and went towards my grandmother’s room at the end of the corridor. It was a Japanese-styled room facing the north, the room was cramped, and the ceiling was extraordinarily short. Our house went through many building extensions, so the layout of the rooms was somewhat weird.

My grandmother told me not to enter her room whenever I wanted to, but I had an objective in doing so—to look for books.

There was a large bookshelf at a wall of this Japanese-styled room, and naturally, grandmother’s books were laid on it. It seemed that my Guanyin Bodhisattva-like grandmother was once a lovely literature girl, and I heard that she spent almost all the pocket money she earned working at the restaurant on books.

The books grandmother collected were mostly the old Japanese literature texts from the Meiji and the Taisho era, and the me of that time did not understand the contents of the books. But with so many books, I thought that there might be books for children. Thus, I arrived here, filled with expectations.

I continued to pull books out, checking the contents inside. At that time, I did not understand kanji, and I left the books aside on the floor without putting them back before drawing the next book. In the end, I did not know whether I was finding a book or making a mess.

Once I created openings all over the bookshelf, I noticed a box at the lowest level filled with pocket books. As they were small, I thought that they might be children books, and brought my face closer to read. The name was printed at the back, but unfortunately, they were mostly kanji, and there was only a book with hiragana on it. I slowly read this line,

“And, then.”

What kind of book was it? Just when I was about to pull the stack out from the shelf,

“What are you doing?”

A deep voice bellowed from above my head, shocking me. I looked back and saw my grandmother, wearing her cooking clothes as she lowered her head at me. When did she come up to the second level? The long narrow eyes that were reminiscent of Guanyin Bodhisattva really scared me.

I sat down on the tatami mat that was covered with many books.

I immediately recalled the latter half of the line when my grandmother warned me not to enter her room—even if you enter, you are not allowed to touch the books on the shelf. Those are the things I treasured most.

At this moment, I knew what I had to do. My grandmother was strict, but I would be forgiven if I apologized sincerely. That was the case when I lined up the chairs in the eatery as a tunnel. I sat properly in a seiza and lowered my head, apologizing—

But grandmother’s reaction was beyond my expectations. She grabbed my shoulders violently and slapped me twice while I was completely shocked. She was completely merciless as she used the strength of an adult. My elbows and thighs slammed into the pile of books, and I was lifted up before I could cry. It was really horrifying to see the angry Sanpaku eyes of Guanyin Bodhisattva, and I nearly pissed myself there. That was the first and last time I got beaten up by grandmother.

“…You are not allowed to read these books.”

Grandmother said hoarsely, and added on,

“If you make the same mistake again, you’re no longer a child from our house.”

I nodded my head lightly in silence.

To be honest, as to whether this incident caused this kind of ‘nature’ within me, I cannot conclude as I am not a psychologist. It was only when I became an adult that I thought of this as a plausible reason.

It is clear however that I could not read printed text ever since I incurred the imperial wrath from my grandmother. Naturally, I never entered her room ever since that incident.

I did not know when my grandmother first noticed my change. However, we never talked about that incident after so many years. Perhaps it was a painful memory for my grandmother as well.

It was more than 15 years later that we talked again about what happened that day. When I went to visit my grandmother, who was admitted into a nearby hospital, “about the time when I beat you.” she suddenly started to talk about it,

“I was really shocked to see you in my room that that time. You never entered before that, right?”

Her tone sounded like it happened the previous week, and it took me a while to digest the words and understand what she was talking about.

At this point, both of us were different from before; both my grandmother who spoke up, and I, who listened. I grew taller than an ordinary person and went through my coming of age, while my already-short grandmother became a lot thinner and frail, and after her body condition started to worsen, the number of times the shop closed down for breaks started to increase.

At that time, we were headed into the rainy season, and the rain poured down outside. Whenever the seasons changed, my grandmother’s migraine would start to work up, bothering her. However, since she showed no signs of recovering, she was admitted into hospital for a checkup. I was at my busiest, looking for a job at that time, and after hearing the company’s briefing, I went to the hospital for a visit. I inadvertently felt somewhat inexplicable that I would be talking about what happened when I was 5 while dressed in a suit.

“I never thought of hitting you at first. That was my fault at that time, I suppose.”

I stared at the clarity that could be seen in my grandmother’s eyes, and felt that the atmosphere was somewhat bad.

“It was my fault for entering on my own in the first place. Don’t fret over it.”

I did not begrudge her for this. That was the first and last time she ever hit me, but she still showed a gloomy expression as she said.

“I often thought that if you can read books now, your life will be changed greatly.”

I used my fingers to rub my eyebrows lightly. That perhaps might be the case. During university, I gave up my insistence on reading books and accepted an invitation to the judo club. During those 4 years, I attained a respectable Dan ranking and was ranked one of the top in the district’s weight-division tournament. I supposed, during that time, I got stronger, the areas around my neck and my shoulders got sturdy, and I built up on my physique.

“…It doesn’t matter even if I can’t read books now.”

Right, that was what I said, but it was also half the truth. My university life was definitely more fulfilling—but if I could read books, it would definitely be a lot different.

“Is that so?”

Grandmother sighed as she closed her eyes. I thought that she was going to sleep, and after a while, she started to talk,

“…What kind of person will you be married to?”

“Huh?”

The sudden change in topic caused me to be taken aback. It was the same as when she talked about me, and she had been saying some strange words I could not comprehend. This situation just felt too weird.

“It’s too early to talk about marriage.”

I said that as I looked outside the ajar door. If there was a nurse passing through, it would be good if I call her in.

“Maybe it might be good for you to get married to a lady who likes books. You can’t read books, but she’ll definitely tell you all sorts of interesting things regarding them…well, it’s kind of difficult since bookworms mostly like those who share the same interest.”

Grandmother said that in a teasing manner. I did not know if she was just joking, or if her consciousness was fading off to a weird place. Then, she seemed to remember something as she added,

“…Once I die, I’ll leave all my books to you two to handle as you please.”

I felt like my face was splashed with cold water, and I was not a person who could pretend to remain calm and adapt quickly.

“Wha-what are you saying…isn’t that too early?”

I muttered softly.

My grandfather and my father died before I was born, and this was the first time I actually heard a kin of mine say such things. Grandmother closed her eyes as she gave a wry smile. It seemed that she could detect the anxiety in me that was expressing itself clearly.

She had a malignant tumor in her brain, and there was not much time left before she died. I did not tell her the results of the detailed examination, but she probably knew from the attitudes my mother and I showed. This was not going to fool the eyes of Guanyin Bodhisattva.

I finally understood what my grandmother was trying to tell me.

Those were words she wanted to tell her grandson beforehand—her last words.

By the time I recalled about my grandmother’s books, it was more than a year after the funeral—during the midsummer of August 2010. Having graduated from university, I continued to stay at my house in Ōfuna, and as I finally managed to get out of bed at noon, I heard my mother yelling for me outside the house.

“Come down here, Joblessuke.”

I felt puzzled as to why my mother, who would normally be working at the company at this time, was in the house. I then remembered that it was Sunday, and honestly, I cannot seem to determine when its Sunday ever since I graduated.

I yawned as I walked out of the room, and saw that the door at the end of the corridor was opened. It seemed that mom was in grandmother’s Japanese-styled room.

“Ow.”

My forehead hit the door frame hard as I was about to enter. The beam then let out a creaking sound.

“What are you doing, Joblessuke. Stop wrecking the house.”

Mom grumbled as she stood in the middle of the room. Her head was nearly hitting the lampshade of the fluorescent light, and though she is not as tall as me, she is still rather tall.

“The doorframe here is really low.”

I press my head as I argue back. I did mention before that due to the many expansions in the house, the layout of the rooms everywhere has become a little weird. Though it looks like it is lower by a mere few centimeters, this slight difference is still noticeable.

“You’re still not awake yet. Nobody else has knocked into that before.”

I don’t think so. There is black duct tape fastened to the door frame, and it was there before I was wise enough. Someone definitely knocked into it before, and it is really depressing to think that I’m the only one who had been careless.

“I’m now clearing up the stuff your grandmother left behind…”

She spoke halfway, and then paused, seemingly sighing.

“…Ah seriously, it’s troublesome to have two tall people inside here. Come sit down.”

I was prompted to sit down cross-legged as I faced mom, who was sitting in a Seiza. She has a wide chin, long narrow eyes, and would say such cruel words with a calm unflinching face. Height aside, she is basically a chip off the old block when compared to my grandmother. Mom has two older sisters—my aunts, and she resembles my grandmother most amongst the three sisters.

However, she does not seem like she is happy with inheriting such aspects from her mother, and she is probably fuming because they looked identical. I have never seen mom talk with grandmother calmly for more than 5 minutes, and she probably went out to work instead of taking over “Goura Eatery” because she wanted to avoid meeting each other too much.

“The one year anniversary of your grandmother’s death has passed. I’m wondering if I should pack things up.”

She said. It is just like what my mother said; we have lots of folded cardboard boxes gathered below our waists. My grandmother’s clothes and ornaments were already divided amongst our aunts, and the only things left in this house were untouched. This messy scene caused me to recall the incident when I was 5 years ago. I decided to look around the room in order to change my mood, but suddenly, I noticed an important change.

“Where are grandmother’s books?”

The bookshelf that filled the wall completely was left empty, and not a single book was left behind.

“The books are over there. I did say that I’m clearing them up, didn’t I? Weren’t you listening to me?”

Mom grumbled as she knocked on a few boxes beside her.

“Isn’t there a nursing home near the Sekiya Intersection? I know of some acquaintance working there, building some reading room there, and is collecting books recently. He was delighted when I offered him the books in our house, saying that he wants as many as he can get. I told him that I’ll send over our jobless-suke slacking at home then.”

“Why are you calling me that when talking to outsiders?”

Of course, this jobless-suke here will refer to me. The –suke in my Daisuke is added on with a ‘jobless’, and she actually calls me by this nickname in front of everyone else.

“This is a face after all. You’re really slacking at home without working anyway.”

“…It’s not like I wanted to slack around like this either.”

I still have not found a job. I once received a job offer from a construction company in Yokohama, but that company closed down during February this year. Currently, I am still attending some inauguration exercises, but I just could not get through to the interview stage. I am not a student of some famous and prestigious university, and I have no real noted specialty other than my physique. The economy downtime too is making it more difficult for me to find job opportunities.

“You’re being too picky here. Try taking the acceptance tests of the JSDF or the police then. You do inherit the good physique from me, so it’s probably good if you can actually show these advantages.”

I did not answer. This isn’t the first time I’m advised to take the acceptance tests of the JSDF and the police. My judo dan ranking is definitely a plus here, but after 4 years of judo training, I clearly understood that fighting to win isn’t a characteristic I have. I don’t feel that physical jobs are really tiring, but I actually want a simpler job instead of having to ensure the safety of the people and the peace in the country.

“Then, regarding the books.”

I changed the topic and temporarily pushed this public servant talk to the back of my head.

“Grandmother really treasures these books. There’s no need to actually donate them all…”

“It’s fine.”

Mom concluded.

“She had already said ‘I’ll leave my books to you once I die’. Didn’t you hear her?”

“I did, but I feel that she wants us to keep them in an appropriate manner.”

I thought grandmother meant that while we were free to share them, she hoped that we set them aside and cherish them. However, mom merely shook her head hard.

“Do you still not understand? Her catchphrase is basically ‘nothing can be brought over to that word’. It was the same too when your grandfather died; she just dealt with all the leftovers without hesitation. She’s someone with this kind of mindset.”

Speaking of which, I did not remember grandmother leaving any things grandfather left behind. Grandfather died a long time ago, and I heard it was when mom first entered elementary school. He got into a traffic accident on a hot summer day no different from how it’s like now, when he was returning from the Kawasaki Daishi.

“It’s a different situation altogether if only you can read books, right?”

No, I won’t read, or more specifically, I can’t read. They’re just left in my house as displays anyway. It might be good to give them to someone who reads.

“Then, how about I drive and deliver these books?”

I quickly looked around the room. The books from the bookshelves were not in cardboard boxes, but were scattered on the tatami. I had to first store them in the cardboard boxes.

“So be it then. But before you leave, there’s something I want to discuss with you.”

Mom took out a set of books from beside her, and put it in front of my eyes. There were approximately 30 books in total, and they were small and thin compared to the others, the size of a single young boys manga volume. I felt as if I pricked a barb as the bad memories awoken in me again. Those were definitely the books I wanted to take back then, but this was the first time I noticed the name of the book set ‘Sōseki's Complete Collection’. This set included the ‘And Then’ book of Sōseki Natsume.

“I thought she might had some personal savings she left in the books and forgot, so I flipped them open one by one.”

So she was what she was doing. Mom ignored my surprise, took out a book from the case with the words ‘8th volume: And Then’ printed on it. I saw the cover with the thin layer of paraffin wrapped over it.

“See, I found this.”

There was a thin line of handwritten brush words on the right side of the blank space. The words weren’t really elegant, and the balance and spacing between each letter was delicately weird:

“Sōseki Natsume.

To Mr Yoshio Tanaka”

There was a thin line of handwritten brush words on the right side of the blank space. The words weren’t really elegant, and the balance and spacing between each letter was delicately weird:

These were the only two lines written. ‘Sōseki Natsume’ was written at the middle end, while the ‘To Mr Yoshio Tanaka’ was near the filing.

“This is Sōseki Natsume’s signature, right? It’ll be really amazing if it’s the real thing!”

Mom’s eyes were dazzling, but I just couldn’t summon the enthusiasm. It would be really amazing if it was the real thing, but it’s nothing if it’s just a fake.

I received the book, flipped it open, and the stench of old paper came at me. I felt the area around my heart start to cool down the moment I saw printed words lined by the side; I frantically flipped to the last page, and found the publishing date at the top edge. The date was the 31st year of the Showa Era, July 27th, and the distributor was ‘Iwanami Shoten’.

“…It’s the year before grandmother got married.”

I was puzzled. Was Sōseki Natsume still alive at that time? I thought that he was someone who lived a long time ago.

“Who’s the person called Tanaka?”

My grandmother’s name was Kinuko Goura, a completely different name. if Sōseki Natsume really signed for this person, why did these books end up in grandmother’s hands?

“I don’t know either. Maybe it’s a signature the owner before your grandmother wanted. This book looks like it’s bought from an old bookstore.”

Mom reached her hand out and flipped through the pages. There was a bookmark the size of business cards placed inside, and it seemed to be the price of this entire collection. The writing was a little faded, but the words were, ’34 volumes, first edition, 3500 Yen’. I’m not too sure of the prices in the past, but if it’s a book collection, wasn’t this price too cheap. If it was something someone wrote as a prank—

I gasped.

Upon looking at it, I found that there was a ‘Antiquarian Bookshop Biblia’ line printed at the corner of the price tag. My mind immediately thought of that beautiful profile reading inside the slightly dim shop. It was the bookshop near the High School I studied at.

“I want to know how much worth does this whole collection has. If it’s a memorabilia, it’ll be a waste to give it away like this; it’ll be better to keep it at home. I don’t know of anyone who knows anything about such things, do you?”

I got off my scooter near the Kita-Kamakura Station, and put my helmet under the seat.

I took out the shopping bag with the ‘Sōseki's Complete Collection’ from the basket at the front of the scooter. After many years, I stood in front of the ‘Antiquarian Bookshop Biblia’. The surroundings had not changed since my time in High School, just like how I was. There was a narrow alley vehicles could not drive into, an old wooden house, a rusted swinging display, and not many pedestrians at all.

This shop was probably around since my grandmother’s youth. It should be impossible for the daughter of a diner family to save enough pocket money and buy new books. She was able to collect so many books because she could get them cheaply at old bookstores like this, and this was a natural conclusion I could derive as I thought about this.

I came here to let the owner of the shop appraise the ‘Sōseki's Complete Collection’, and to ask if my grandmother really came to this shop. Also, I was a little upbeat about hearing some news regarding the beauty I saw during my second year in High School.

6 years after that day, I would look into the shop whenever I passed by, but I would only see the white-haired shopkeeper glower as he continued to walk. It was a little awkward to go in and ask about her for no good reason; since I had some proper business to deal with today, it should be fine to hear some news about her.

The sliding door of the old bookstore had the ‘we are open’ board hanging on it. I glanced inside, and found it to be the same as how it was in the past. There were several large bookshelves, and there was a counter opposite.

Someone was sitting behind the counter.

It was not the aloof looking shop owner, but probably a young petite female. She had her head lowered, so I could not see her face. I felt my body heating up, thinking that she might be the one I saw back then. Before I realized it, I opened the sliding door, causing it to make a sound.

The shop attendant lifted her face, and the surging temperature rising in me cooled a little. Her wide eyes under the short fringe, and her skin was tanned like an elementary school student in summer break; she was dressed in a white shirt similar to that of a High School uniform, and was different from the girl back then. She's a different person.

A high schooler working part time--no, perhaps she was the daughter of the shop owner, since their faces had a canny resemblance. She looked over at the paper bag in my hands.

"Ah, are you here to buy old books?"

She welcomed me in with a very lively voice. I was not here to buy or sell books, but just to appraise the value of the complete collection with the signature on it. Perhaps I might be thick-skinned about this.

But at this point, it will be awkward to return back. I decided to ask her first anyway.

There were a lot of books on the aisles between the bookshelves, and it was impossible for me to pass through with my size. It was practically impossible to take the books at the bottom; how is a customer supposed to buy books anyway?

The girl stood up from behind the counter. She seemed to be my junior, and her blouse and skirt were from my alma mater. Since she's dressed in school uniform even in the middle of summer vacation, it seems that she had club activity training in the morning.

"...I'm not here to buy old books, but to ask you to help me check something. May I? It's about the books my grandmother bought from this shop."

I peeked over at the girl's reaction for a moment, and she simply waited quietly for me to continue. I put the paper bag with the 'Sōseki's Complete Collection' on the table, and took out the '8th volume: And Then' book. I removed the book from its cover and handed the paraffin cover to the girl. She narrowed her eyes as she brought her face here.

"It's this signature."

"Wow! It's written as Sōseki Natsume! Is this the real thing?"

For an instant, I did not know how I should respond. I never thought that she would be asking me in return.

"I don't know at all. This is why I'm here."

"I see...hm, what shall I do?"

She folded her arms as she looked up at my face. Why is it that she's the one asking me now?

"...You can't tell if this is the real thing?"

"Ah, it's impossible now. The shopkeeper's not here, and I'm not certain about such things."

She said without hesitation?

"When will the shopkeeper be back?"

The moment I asked, the girl gave a frown, and her eyebrows were touching each other.

"...The shopkeeper's hospitalized at the moment."

She lowered her voice a little. Speaking of which, this shop did seem to be closed for the moment. Perhaps the shopkeeper was not feeling too well.

"Is he sick?"

"No...well, the leg got injured...if there are books sent here, I will have to bring it to the hospital for the owner to appraise it. Ah seriously, it's really troublesome!"

The explanation instantly became a rambling, but I was a little shocked to learn that the owner was still working even when hospitalized. Is the old bookshop still in operation under such situations?

"But it's at the Ōfuna General Hospital, so it's not too far. It's a 15 minute ride on a bicycle from here."

"...Ah, so it's there."

I could not help but mutter. It was near my house, and whenever a hospital was mentioned, I would immediately think of the Ōfuna General Hospital. That was the place where my mother gave birth to me, and where my grandmother died.

"Anyway, just leave them here for the time being. I still have club activities in the summer, and I don't know if I can go over to the hospital immediately. Will you be fine with it if this takes quite a while?"

I thought about it for a little. It was too troublesome to deliberately ask her to send the books over to the hospital. I would 'not be selling them if they were the real thing', and it would be bothersome to her if she was to bring them back. The moment I was about to say this, she spoke up first,

"Erm, do you often go to the Ōfuna General Hospital?"

"...It's near my house."

Her expression immediately brighened.

"In that case, can you please head to the hospital on your own? I'll contact the owner first, and the appraisal can be done for you immediately."

"Eh?"

I never heard of anyone going to a hospital to appraise old books, and most important, this shop would not gain a profit because of it. That scary looking shop owner might even throw a fit.

"No...it'll be too troublesome though..."

She did not hear my words at all, and had already opened her phone, and quickly typed out a message. In an instant, she sent it out, and when she closed her phone she bared her teeth as she grinned at me.

"The mail's sent! Now you can head over there whenever you want to."

At this point, there was no way I could refuse. I could only nod my head in silence.