To a Promising Young Lad (September 4―November 3)

September 4

To: Mamiya

Hello, Mamiya. It’s me again.

Now that summer vacation is over, how are you adjusting to the new school term? When I was a kid, I was filled with sorrow every time summer vacation ended. I used to wish, “If only summer vacation would last forever!”

You were so astute in your last letter; I suppose that telling lies is a bad thing after all. You’re right, there is no jellyfish called Thricharia poupe. Seeing as you went to the trouble of going to the library and looking it up, I can only admit defeat. It’s important to admit that you’re wrong sometimes, though it does sting a little.

You’re also right that both Komatsuzaki and I are not averse to boobs, which is a more restrained way of saying that we are fond of them. When you grow up to be adults like us, you can’t say things like that so openly. And because I was your tutor, I didn’t want to show you that side of me. Whether I am averse to boobs or not is entirely up to me, but whether I speak to you about it is another matter altogether. Do you get what I mean? When it comes to boobs, there are times when you can be candid and times when you can’t. That is what I believe.

The night we had sukiyaki, I shouldn’t have talked to Komatsuzaki about “our super secret research, wink wink.” It was wrong of both Komatsuzaki and me to pique your and Mr. Morimi’s curiosity. We should have been more discreet about it.

But what Mr. Morimi did was awful. He must have known very well what Komatsuzaki and I were up to, and yet he still brought all the ladies over to the lab. He probably just wanted to score some brownie points with them. Don’t grow up to be like him.

Do you think Ms. Mari will be upset at Komatsuzaki because of what happened that night? What would you do if she was? Knowing how shrewd you are, I bet you’re already plotting something. But remember, wicked plans make wicked men.

There’s this woman I know called Ōtsuka who is always tormenting me. We’re currently at war with each other, and a fierce one too.

Whenever I’m weary from the fighting, I take a walk to Titty Shrine. The other day I got there and was startled to see Taniguchi standing there, smoking a cigarette looking like he was up to something.

“Hey, cherry boy,” he said to me. “Enjoying your youth?” He’s always lurking around wherever I go. It’s terrifying. I can never let my guard down.

Nothing would make me happier than seeing you grow up to be a good man.

Til next time,

Morita Ichirō

September 17

To: Mamiya

It’s not usually this hot halfway through September.

But even that can’t get me down right now. Remember Ōtsuka, the evil lady I wrote about in my last letter? Well, I just beat her at her own game. She’s always thinking of ways to torment me, the crueller the better. For over a year I’ve suffered at her hands, but I finally found a way to get even. You should never bully anyone, but if someone keeps bullying you, you’ve got to fight back.

I’m glad that you see things my way about boobs. It’s, well, a complicated subject in many ways.

The relationship between Komatsuzaki and Ms. Mari is also complicated. You’re probably wondering why Ms. Mari didn’t flip out on Komatsuzaki even though she called you a pervert just for saying something dirty. But there are deep bonds between Ms. Mari and Komatsuzaki. You can’t see them. I can’t see them either. That’s because they exist only between those two.

Komatsuzaki is far from an admirable human being. He’s not handsome either. He’s round and pudgy like a marshmallow, and he’s not much of an athlete. He probably runs slower than you. But he can be kind, and he tries his best, in his own way. You might not be able to see those things. But I think Ms. Mari sees them very clearly.

You complained that the only thing that Komatsuzaki has going for him is that he’s older than you, but you’re underestimating how important that is. No matter how hard you work, it takes time to become a grown-up; Komatsuzaki didn’t turn into a marshmallow overnight. No, he gradually worked on himself, bit by bit, until he was a full-fledged marshmallow―I mean, grownup. Next week he’ll be coming over to my lab to do research.

Best of luck with the upcoming school sports day. Are you a fast runner?

Morita

September 28

What a typhoon that was. It was unnerving to see the sea churn and foam like that. But now it’s as if the typhoon has driven out summer; there’s a clear sky now, an autumn sky. Has it gotten cooler in Kyoto?

Thanks for the picture of your sports meet. I never knew you were such an athlete. I wasn’t much for sports when I was a kid, so I always dreaded school sports meets. Even now, my stomach drops whenever I see bunting with flags of all the countries like they put up at those meets.

I talk often with Komatsuzaki these days. He’s here at the lab in Noto for three weeks, helping collect samples for our research. Taniguchi didn’t waste any time; he’s been running Komatsuzaki ragged along the seashore, shouting, “Marshmallow boy! What are you doing!” and “Marshmallow boy! You dimwitted lard!” Dimwitted is a word that means “ignorant”; try your best so that you don’t grow up to be a dimwitted lard.

So Ms. Mari’s been feeling lonely? She’d probably be happy to hear from him, even if only to hear that he’s sweating his butt off rolling along the beach. I’ve encouraged him to write a letter to her, and because I’m so proficient at writing letters I’m even thinking of teaching him.

Tell Ms. Mari that Mr. Morimi’s new book will be out soon. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled.

You haven’t written about anything risqué in a while, so I almost gasped out loud when I read your letter. Yes, that’s how babies are born. I understand how you feel. I was still a dimwit when I learned that for the first time, so my first reaction was, “That’s bogus! That can’t be true!” By all accounts, it is the truth. I’ve never seen a baby being born myself though, so I can’t say it with 100% certainty.

It’s a shock now, but you’ll get used to the idea over time.Try not to think about it. No matter how bogus something may seem, you’ll get used to it eventually.

I’d avoid doing more research into how babies are born, unless you want Ms. Mari to give you an earful.

Morita

October 8

To: Mamiya

It really feels like autumn now, doesn’t it?

On my way to Anamizu with Komatsuzaki today, I was looking out the train window and saw red spider lilies blooming on the ridges between the rice paddies. I’d wanted to ride to the end of the Noto Railway at least once while I was here. In the past, the Noto Railway used to go all the way to a place called Koiji Beach, but now it only goes as far as Anamizu.

The neighbourhood by the station at Anamizu was empty, and even though Komatsuzaki was with me I couldn’t help but feel a little lonesome. We walked around town for a little while, but then it started to get a little cloudy and chilly, so we went back to the waiting room at the station and got some coffee from the vending machine. You might not believe this, but on the way back we saw a UFO at Noto-Kashima Station. It was getting dark so it was hard to make out, but we glimpsed a black, round object whooshing over the ocean. The world is chock full of mystery.

It doesn’t sound like you believe that Ms. Mari was happy to get Komatsuzaki’s letter. Then again, it is pretty hard to believe. But you’re so obsessed with it that I can’t help but feel worried.

Are you really going to try to win Ms. Mari’s heart again? She’s a responsible grown-up, and I’m sure she’ll listen seriously to what you have to say, but I would recommend against it. She’s head over heels for Komatsuzaki’s marshmallow flab, and you’re her student. “None of that matters!” you may proclaim, but I don’t see this ending well for you.

You’re torn about it too, aren’t you? You can’t bring yourself to admit your feelings to Ms. Mari because you’re afraid that she’ll stop coming over to tutor you. If you keep studying like a good boy, then maybe Ms. Mari will keep tutoring you forever. But if she knew how you felt about her, maybe she’d quit being your tutor. No matter how you plead that you’ll be a good student, you couldn’t know how she’d react.

So do you still want to try and storm the keep?

I can’t say that either choice is correct. I don’t have the right to lecture you on the topic.

Just think long and hard before you make your decision.

Morita

November 3

To: A promising young lad

I hadn’t heard from you in a while, so I was delighted to receive your letter.

I’m coming to Kyoto soon, so I spent the entire day getting ready to move. It’s not like I have a lot of belongings to pack, though. Tomorrow I’ll visit the aquarium and say goodbye to the dolphins who have been so kind to me during my time here. The past six months have flown by, but what a whirlwind six months they were. Taniguchi says he’ll see me off at the station. He’s a scary guy, but sometimes he can be kind.

My heart broke for you when I read that Ms. Mari quit being your home tutor. I’m sure your heart was broken too. But she stuck to her principles as a tutor. Try not to forget that.

I don’t think that she hates you. But as your tutor she was in a difficult position.

The pain must be agonizing, and there must be all sorts of things going through your head right now, but all you can do is grin and bear it. That’s the only advice I can give you. I wasn’t as driven as you when I was in elementary school, and the only thing I was interested in was digging holes with my dumb dog Natsu, so I didn’t feel this heartbreak until I was much older.

The pain must be agonizing, but all you can do is grin and bear it. That’s the only advice I can give you.

Let me tell you an anecdote from one of Dr. Koibumi’s books.

Dr. Koibumi once wrote a great many love letters, but before he could send them he was spurned by the object of his affections. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t throw them in the wastebasket, because his mother would have found them.He couldn’t throw them away in some public trash can, because he didn’t want anyone else to pick them up. So he took them into his backyard and burned them. The flames rose higher and higher, and smoke billowed into the air. But as the boy fed the now-useless letters into the fire one by one, he heard the wail of sirens in the distance, and flashing red lights swirled round and round in front of his house. The boy’s little sister mistaken the smoke for a house fire and phoned the fire department. The neighbourhood was in an uproar, but when everyone asked him what he had been burning, he felt so embarrassed he wanted to sink into a hole in the ground.

What can we take away from this story?

Nothing. There’s nothing to take away.

But doesn’t it make you feel better, knowing that there are lots of people with experiences like this out there in the world? I know lots of these stories, and I consider each of them to be a treasure.

There are so many things that I wished I could teach you but couldn’t. And there are so many secrets that I had to keep from you. There are times that I shouldn’t have tried to show off in front of you. But all of that is because I am your teacher, not your friend. That’s what it means to be a teacher.

But sometimes I wondered―if you were a little more grown up, maybe we would have been good friends. That’s because you’re a promising young lad.

I’ll be back in Kyoto soon.

And I’ll bring back lots of Tengu Ham with me.

Morita Ichirō