From that time to the present, Yojirō had not surfaced with the money. Sanshirō, being conscientious, worried about his room and board payment. He didn't press the matter, but he wished Yojirō would somehow settle things. The days went by, and the end of the month drew near. Only several days remained. It didn't occur to Sanshirō that he might ask for an extension. Yojirō would have to come through -- of course he had no such faith. He rightly expected, though, that Yojirō would at least be considerate enough to make his best effort. According to Professor Hirota, Yojirō's thoughts were like water in a shoal, constantly shifting. But surely he wouldn't forsake this obligation. He couldn't be so fickle as that.
Sanshirō gazed on the street from his second-floor window. As he watched, Yojirō approached from the distance at a brisk pace. From below the window, he looked up and saw Sanshirō. "Hey, you there?"
Sanshirō looked down at him from above. "Ya, I'm here."
Following this exchange of nonsensical lines from below and above, Sanshirō ducked his head back into the room. Yojirō came clomping up the stairs.
"Were you watching for me? I figured you'd worry about your bill here, so I've been running around. Sheer idiocy."
"Did you get your manuscript fee from the Literary Review people?"
"What fee? They've already paid what they owe me."
"They have? Didn't you say they'd pay you by the end of the month?"
"Did I say that? I don't think so. They don't owe me even one mon."
"That's odd. I could have sworn you said so."
"Maybe I spoke of an advance. But they wouldn't give me one. They think they won't get it back. Lousy wretches. And it's only twenty yen. I write 'Great Dark Void' for them, and they still can't trust me. Unbelievable. I despise those people."