"Saku-san, thank you for coming. I wish I had your good health. I'm afraid I'm nearing my end."
"You're doing alright. With two university graduates in the family, a little illness is nothing to complain of. Look at me. I've lost my wife and I have no children. I'm merely soldiering on. What does my health get me?"
It was several days after Saku's visit that Father was given the enema. The doctors, he said, had done a wonder on him. His mood was greatly improved, and his outlook a little less morbid. My mother, either affected by his spirits or simply hoping to encourage him further, spoke of Sensei's telegram. She talked as though a position in Tōkyō, just as he'd wished for me, had indeed been secured. I was sitting close by, beginning to feel uneasy, but I couldn't interrupt my mother. I listened in silence. Father's face was beaming.
"That's wonderful," my sister's husband added.
"Do you know what kind of work it is?" my brother asked.
By this time, I lacked the courage to challenge their misconceptions. I left them with a vague answer and rose from my seat.