This chapter's a long one so I'm splitting it up. I will probably update on Fridays
Translation Notes
Kyouden, short for Kyoto Electric Railway, was Japan's first commercial electric railway. It was established in 1895.
The great purification chant, or O-Harae no Kotoba, is a Shinto prayer used in purification rituals.
Kagura is a kind of Shinto ceremonial dance.
A chikuwa is a tube-shaped fishcake.
The 4th Division of the Imperial Japanese Army was formed in Osaka and had responsibility for the central region of the island of Honshu, which includes Kyoto.
Hill 203 is the site of one of the fiercest battles in the Russo-Japanese War.
An Odai-san appears to be some kind of shaman or psychic who acts as an intermediary between the god Inari and people.
A bunrei is a Shinto practice where a divine spirit is divided from a main shrine and re-enshrined elsewhere.
Oishi Kuranosuke was the leader of the famous 47 ronin who avenged the death of their former master. Chushingura is the title given to fictional accounts of this incident.
Kuga's nickname in Japanese, Okajouki (陸蒸気) is a pun since an okajouki is the name for steam trains in the Meiji era, and the first character is Kuga's last name.
Previous || Index || Next
On Mount Inari, located in Kyoto’s Fushimi Ward, stood the Inari Shrine, renowned for its deity who governed business prosperity.
Other than the main shrine at the foot of the mountain, subordinate shrines and rock altars were scattered throughout the mountain. Even now, in Meiji 40 (1907), rock altar worship—treating the deities residing in the shrines and altars as one’s own family deities—remained thriving.
The worshippers’ path wound its way through the mountain like a thread stitching together the numerous altars and shrines, bracketed by countless torii gates. On this treacherous road, which could hardly be called a mountain path, Momokawa Inako was braving the August heat to climb the mountain.
Inako wore a navy-blue kimono with white kasuri patterns and a yellow-green obi sash. With each step, her obi clasp, shaped like a mouse and rice sack, along with her braid, bounced back and forth. Her wooden clogs clattered gently in the mountain that was filled with the sounds of cicadas, rustling leaves, and prayers being recited from the altars and shrines.
From the crossroads halfway up the mountain, a long flight of steps led through a dense area of rock altars and then through a thicket of trees until it reached a slightly more open space. From there, one could see the Kyouden trams (1) crossing the Kanjin Bridge over Kamo River, the barracks of the 38th Infantry Regiment in Fukakusa, and the Shichijo railway station.
Located in this open area was a rock altar dedicated to Akubi Daimyoujin. Part of the rock face was exposed on the nearby hillside, and a donation box and a barely acceptable pedestal standing close to it, upon which were placed numerous torii gates and offerings of various sizes.
Facing the altar, Inako put offering money into the box, bowed and clapped her hands twice, and then took a deep breath.
“Gracious Deity, I wish to do better next time.”
She closed her eyes tightly, rubbing her clasped hands together rapidly, as if trying to spark a flame.
“I wish to not be so slow and clumsy anymore. I wish to not make Father angry next time. I wish the shamisen strings won’t break when I practice. I wish I can become as beautiful as Onee-chan soon. And—”
After praying to her heart’s content, Inako began reciting the great purification chant. (2)
“Takamanohara ni kamuzumari masu sumera gamutsukamurogi kamuromi no mikotomo chite—”
The air was filled with the scent of candles. Inako felt her voice blending into the chirping of cicadas and the rustling of the greenery. She truly felt that this was the abode of the gods, far removed from the hustle and bustle of the world. Her heart gradually calmed down.
As if accompanying her voice, kagura music drifted towards her ears from somewhere. (3)
Inako wondered if there was a kagura hall nearby. While reciting the chant, she tried to pinpoint the source of the sound. Strangely, the music seemed to be coming from the lush vegetation on the rock face.
When she looked up, the music stopped. It was followed by a cry of “Ah!”
The vegetation trembled violently, and suddenly, a boy slid down from it.
He screamed as he fell, smashing the offered torii gates, and landed on his backside. He groaned, clutching a box-like machine in his arms.
Stunned by this sudden turn of events, Inako covered her mouth with her hand. Could it be? She thought.
“The Gracious Deity has finally appeared before me…!” Inako clapped her hands as joy welled up within her and started to prostrate herself before the boy. “Akubi Daimyoujin-sama, Akubi Daimyoujin-sama, please hear my wishes—”
“You idiot.”
The boy removed the horn-shaped part of the machine and whacked Inako’s bowed head with it.
“Ow! What are you doing, Gracious Deity?”
“That’s supposed to be my line. Who bows to someone who slid down a hill without even checking to see if they’re alright?”
Inako calmed down and carefully examined the boy. He wore a cotton kasuri kimono over a shirt and kokura cotton hakama pants—in other words, he was just a regular boy. Realizing this, she hurriedly lowered her head.
“Sorry, I thought you were a god who appeared in response to my faith.”
“What kind of person would think that?”
The boy sighed and put the horn back on the machine. Seeing Inako looking at it curiously, he asked, “Is this your first time seeing a phonograph?”
He placed the phonograph on the shrine’s pedestal and started winding the handle on the side. Once he finished winding it, the horizontal cylinder in the center began to spin. The moment he placed the thin needle attached to the front of the horn—which Inako later learned was called a speaker—on the cylinder, kagura music emanated from the speaker.
“It’s the kagura from before! Amazing! How can it make sound by itself?”
The boy turned off the phonograph, removed the chikuwa-shaped cylinder, and carefully placed it in Inako’s hand. (4)
“This is called a wax cylinder. You see the little grooves engraved on its surface, right? When the needle is placed on them, its vibrations reproduce the sound recorded in the cylinder. A single wax cylinder with a recorded song costs about a yen.”
Inako was so shocked by the price that the wax cylinder almost slipped from her hand. The boy managed to catch it before it fell to the ground. He looked genuinely panicked. “Idiot, I told you to be careful.”
“S-sorry. I was just surprised. You could take a hundred Kyouden rides with that money.”
“It’s still cheaper than a disc record. And wax cylinders have an interesting feature.”
The boy took out another cylinder from his pocket and affixed it to the phonograph, but unlike before, no sound came out.
“Why is there no sound? Is it broken?” Inako tilted her head in confusion. The boy returned the needle to its original position.
“Why is there no sound? Is it broken?”
Inako jumped in surprise when she heard her own voice come from the phonograph. The boy smiled smugly.
“With this, anyone can easily record sound. That’s the advantage of a wax cylinder phonograph.”
“What an impressive gadget. Why are you walking around with something like that?”
“This phonograph belongs to a parishioner who lives nearby. They gave it to me to repair it. I tried to test it on the altar before returning it, but then I accidentally slipped down.”
“Oh, so just now—”
With the relaxed atmosphere, Inako only just now noticed that the torii gates and offerings beside the altar were in disarray. “The gods will punish you for this!” she cried.
The boy frowned when he saw how furious Inako was. “The gods?” he put the lid, which had a handle attached to it, over the phonograph and lifted it up, looking at her with disdain. “Unfortunately, I only believe in what I can see.”
The boy prepared to leave, but Inako grabbed his obi and pointed to the scattered torii gates on the ground.
“Whether you have faith or not, you should at least tidy up the mess you made.”
Though the boy made a face, he straightened the torii gates and the other objects, then clasped his hands together in front of the altar.
He’s actually praying properly. Just as Inako was about to utter this thought, she froze at the look in the boy’s eyes.
The boy, with his hands clasped together, was glaring at the altar with eyes filled with hatred.
His gaze was terrifying, as though he was looking at his parents’ killer. He didn’t even bow before turning his back on the altar. “Is that enough?” he said, then walked away nonchalantly.
Startled, Inako quickly apologized to the altar for the boy’s disrespect and continued reciting the purification chant.
“Ooyamato hidakami no kuni wo—”
Perhaps because the boy’s angry look had made such an impression on her, Inako had completely forgotten the prayer she should have memorized perfectly. Just as she racked her brains to recall the words…
“Ooyamato hidakami no kuni wo Yasukuni ni sadmematsurite.”
The boy, standing a short distance away, recited the remaining words of the prayer. He glanced disdainfully at the speechless Inako, and then left.
What’s with that boy!
After finishing her prayers to Akubi Daimyoujin, Inako, her cheeks puffed out, walked back along the pilgrimage route.
The altar was messed up, and to make matters worse, she was helped by someone who held no faith. Nothing could be more humiliating.
Frustrated, Inako walked through the woods to the foot of the mountain, where a wooden fence blocked her path. There, she saw a beggar leaning against the fence. Only one foot was visible beneath his white clothes.
Inako stopped in front of the beggar. “Excuse me, sir, what happened to your left foot…?” she asked.
“I lost it during the Russo-Japanese War.”
Just as she had suspected, the beggar was a wounded soldier from the war, often referred to as a disabled soldier.
“If you’re from around here, then you must have been a soldier in the 4th Division, right?” (5)
“Yes, three years ago, during the attack on Hill 203, an enemy shell exploded right next to me…” (6)
Perhaps recalling wartime memories, the beggar’s lips trembled, his voice almost becoming hoarse. Seeing this, Inako took out a one sen coin from her pouch.
“Um, I only have this much, but…”
“…Thank you, kind young lady.”
Just as the beggar reached for the coin, he suddenly let out a strangled cry.
Inako was startled, not knowing what happened. She saw the beggar twist his body, and suddenly his supposedly missing left foot appeared through the fence. There was a centipede coiled around his ankle. Inako let out a squeak, frozen in place. The beggar completely ignored her and dashed down the pilgrimage path.
Beneath the fence next to where the beggar had stood, there was a hole just big enough for a foot.
“Did he stick his foot in here and pretend he lost it?”
“Of course he did, you idiot.”
Inako was peering into the hole when a face suddenly appeared on the other side. This time, it was her turn to scream and fall flat on her backside. The boy from earlier laughed at her and nimbly vaulted over the fence.
“The 4th Division had never been dispatched to Hill 203. You were completely tricked.”
“You’re that—”
“I was walking back after delivering the phonograph when I saw you listening that strange man. There happened to be a centipede on the ground, so I used it to get rid of him.”
Just thinking about the centipede gave Inako goosebumps. Ever since she was stung by one when she was little, she had been terrified of centipedes.
“Never mind that. I got rid of him for you, so you’d better thank me properly.” The boy’s mouth twisted. Inako looked down at the coin in her hand and gave it to him without hesitation.
“This is all I have.”
The boy recoiled. Perhaps her reaction had been unexpected. “Don’t take jokes so seriously.”
“This is my thank-you gift for you. Thank you for helping me when I almost fell for that con artist.”
“It doesn’t need to be that much money.”
“Consider it to an offering to the gods. I want to thank the mischievous god for helping me.”
Finally, the boy gave in, reluctantly accepting the coin. “Thank you, um…” he tilted his head.
“Me? I’m Momokawa Inako.”
“…Inago?”
“It’s Inako!” she kicked the boy’s shin.
“W-why did you suddenly kick me? That’s rude.”
“You were rude first. So? What’s your name?”
The boy was still teary-eyed from the pain of the kick, but he still managed a smug smile.
“Sakamoto Kihachi.”
Since they were going the same way home, Inako and the boy named Kihachi walked back along the pilgrimage route together.
Kihachi was slightly taller than Inako and fifteen years old, the same age as her. He grew up in a temple in Otsu and was working part-time at a relative’s shop while going to junior high school in Kyoto. Right now, he was on summer vacation.
They talked about the phonograph again, and when Inako heard that it was invented by someone named “Edison,” she asked, “Who’s that?” Kihachi stared at her in shock.
“You don’t know who Edison is? He’s the god of invention!”
“Huh, a god? What kind of blessings does he bestow? Where can I pray to him?”
“He’s not dead. He’s living a good life in America.”
Hearing this, Inako clasped her hands together in the direction of where she thought America was probably located.
“What are you doing?”
“I was thinking that if I prayed to him, maybe I could receive some blessings.”
“How about going to Otokoyama Hachiman-gu Shrine? Edison used bamboo from around there as filaments for his incandescent light bulbs, and he was very successful.”
“Fila… I don’t know what those are, but that sounds like it will bring good fortune. I’ll go there to pray next time.”
“Are you going to ‘wish to do better next time’?”
Kihachi’s wry smile made Inako’s face burn with embarrassment. It seemed he had heard all of her prayers.
“…If I mess up like today, I might wish for that.”
Inako was the second daughter of the Momokawa Sake Brewery, which made Japanese sake in Fushimi.
Her father, Jinemon, was a samurai-like man who had instilled etiquette and lessons into her from a very young age. Unlike her older sister, who was good at anything she tried, Inako was clumsy and made mistakes almost daily, often incurring her father’s wrath.
The worst incident occurred this morning.
Because an important guest was arriving in the evening, the whole household was busy cleaning the house thoroughly. Inako was getting rid of flies with a fly trap—a tool that utilized the stench of petroleum in a small metal basin to repel flies—when she suddenly remembered another task and left the trap in the hallway.
She hadn’t walked far when she heard a loud thud in the corridor. Worried, she rushed back and found her father with the basin on his head, his face dripping with oil and flies. He scowled at her.
“I got a severe scolding, then he told me, ‘You’ll just cause more trouble,’ and then I was kicked out.”
Next to her, Kihachi was laughing so hard that he couldn’t breathe. Inako was annoyed, but couldn’t argue with him.
The two descended the mountain and reached a backstreet. It was lined with souvenir shops with rows of Fushimi dolls, a local specialty, and several teahouses selling iced water and sweet sake.
Kihachi, seemingly hungry, took out a biscuit wrapped in paper and began to chew it slowly with his front teeth. He offered one to Inako, but she declined because of its unappealing appearance.
“Inago, did you pray at that altar because your family worships Akubi Daimyoujin?”
“No. My family’s altar is at Gozendani. I went to Akubi-san’s altar because…if the god acknowledges my devotion, he’ll send me a letter.”
Kihachi’s face tensed as he chewed his biscuit and moved slightly away from her.
“I see…hmm…I guess strange things can happen sometimes.”
He looked at her with pity in his eyes. His expression said, “This girl is crazy.”
“It’s true. When I was little, I saw a letter that Akubi-san sent to my sister.”
“I’ve only heard of believers from faraway places sending prayers to gods, not receiving letters from gods.”
But the gods really do send letters, Inako thought defiantly.
“Anyway, that’s the reason I worship Akubi-san. I also vent my frustrations to him. I’m slow, so I don’t have a lot of friends, which is why I have to confide in the gods. The money I offered is payment for chatting.”
“You really think the gods are listening to your complaints?”
“Believing is my only strength,” Inako said confidently. Kihachi let out a hmph and brushed the biscuit crumbs off his hands.
“Why did you visit Akubi-san’s altar, Sakamoto-san?”
“My family worships Akubi Daimyoujin. My grandmother was blessed by that god when she was undergoing ascetic training.”
It was said that by training under an “Odai-san” (7) at Inari Shrine, one could be blessed by the power of the gods. Although Kihachi’s family was Buddhist, his grandmother specially enshrined a shrine with a bunrei of Akubi Daimyoujin in their household altar. (8) “Never open it, or the god will escape,” she would tirelessly warn him. Thus, Kihachi and his brother called it the “Never-Open Shrine.”
“So you do worship properly!” Inako exclaimed, but Kihachi denied it with a laugh.
“It’s because the view there is beautiful. I often sit there and eat my bento.”
Inako changed her mind when she heard such disrespectful words. This boy is annoying after all, she thought.
At the Kyoto Electric Railway station, a white and brown tram resembling a rice cake was stopped there. When the tram was running, its bell rang, and it was known by the affectionate nickname of “Kyouden.”
Until a few years ago, there were boys acting as “safety officers” who would run in front of the trams and shout, “Tram’s coming! Pay attention!” to warn the people around them. But because this position was too dangerous and strenuous, it was abolished a few years ago, replaced by safety nets installed at the front and rear of the tram.
“Oh, right, since we’ve met, I’ll give this to you.”
Just as Kihachi was about to board the tram, he stopped and gave her an advertising flyer. It featured a picture of the Seven Lucky Gods and the name of a shop called “Hourai Buddhist Altar Shop.” There were also the words “We provide machine repair services,” an address, and, unusually, a telephone number.
“If you have any broken machines, come to us. It’s free for your first visit. Just bring some tasty biscuits.”
How could a Buddhist altar shop do machine repairs? Inako was puzzled, but then the tram bell rang.
“If you want to vent to someone, bring a coin. I’ll listen to you instead of some god you don’t even know exists or not,” Kihachi said jokingly, then jumped onto the already moving tram and left.
“Saying such disrespectful things again!” Inako glared angrily at the flyer, then noticed something written on its back. “Electrical Catalog…?”
Besides those words, there were also names like “Night-Repeller” and “Electric cannon,” and some explanatory text hastily scribbled next to them, along with some drawings. Some parts were also crossed out as though this flyer was used as a memo. Inako wondered if it was okay to accept this, but she couldn’t return it. Though she was concerned, she folded the flyer carefully and put it away.
After heading south from Inari Shrine, passing by Fujimori and approaching Sumizome, you would reach the entrance to the geisha quarter.
Although it was much smaller than the geisha quarters in Gion and Shimabara, it was rumored that Oishi Kuranosuke of Chushingura fame used to frequent it. (9) It should have been quiet during the day, but currently, a lively chorus could be heard.
“The world is collapsing, our compatriots are suffering, to save them, we’ll fight as one—”
“The Salvation Army is here!”
The Salvation Army marched along the brothel-lined street, wearing navy blue caps and uniforms embroidered with the words “Salvation Army.” Taiko drums and trumpets accompanied their song.
Since the emancipation law for prostitution was passed in Meiji 5 (1872), the buying and selling of women was explicitly prohibited. However, a considerable number of women still ended up in brothels due to poverty and unemployment.
The main force driving the anti-prostitution movement was the Salvation Army, a Protestant Christian organization.
Although called an “army,” their activities were peaceful. They were currently engaged in what was known as “field” missionary work, distributing literature such as magazines and leaflets to passersby.
Suddenly, Inako saw a familiar figure in front of her. Just as she was about to run up to him, a bald man stood in front of the group. “What are you doing here?” he shouted in a coarse, vulgar voice. She hurriedly hid behind some barrels piled under the eaves.
“Who do you think you are, messing with other people’s business?”
“We’re here to help women who have been mistreated.” The man at the front of the group was of Western physique, a size larger and more muscular than the men around him. “You’re sinners, like us. Without sincere repentance, you can’t become honest people. Please wake up.”
“I’m awake, alright. You spout this same nonsense every time.”
“The law allows prostitutes the freedom to abandon their profession, and no one may obstruct them. If they join us, they’ll receive training that will allow them to rehabilitate into society.”
A second-floor window of a brothel opened, and an ashtray came flying out, hitting the Salvation Army man on the head. His military cap was knocked off, revealing short, neatly cut hair. He seemed completely unfazed, his sharp gaze fixed on the second floor.
“I knew it, it is Kuga-san.”
The tall man was indeed Kuga Kengo, whom Inako knew well. Just as Kuga brushed the cigarette ash off his uniform, a group of laughing men emerged from the brothel one after the other, instantly surrounding the Salvation Army.
“Get them!” the men shouted and attacked the Army. The geisha quarter erupted into chaos.
Amidst the swirling dust, although the Army was being beaten by multiple men, they offered no true resistance. “Listen to our voices!” Kuga persisted in his appeals.
Just as Inako was worrying about Kuga, the bald man from earlier spotted her and glared menacingly. Inako, terrified, cowered like a frog caught in a snake’s gaze. He strode over. “Are you with them?” he barked and roughly grabbed her wrist. Inako let out a small shriek, and Kuga, noticing her, stopped shouting.
Initially stunned, Kuga quickly grasped the situation, and a terrifying expression appeared on his face. When he walked towards them, two men lunged at him.
Like a fierce deity, he easily grabbed their wrists and effortlessly flung them away.
The group recoiled in fear when they saw their comrades fly over their heads. Kuga rushed forward, kicking away the men surrounding him, and ran to Inako. He grabbed the shocked bald man by the collar with one hand and lifted him up.
Inako collapsed limply to the ground. “I didn’t expect to find you here. Stay here and don’t move,” Kuga said to her gently.
The bald man, thrown by Kuga, plunged head first into the barrels and got buried by them.
Kuga ran back to the group of men attacking his companions and grabbed them by their necks, flinging them away one by one. Then, like a train, he dragged the men who pounced on him as he charged wildly.
“No wonder his nickname is the ‘Kuga Train.’” (10)
During the Russo-Japanese War, Kuga distinguished himself in fierce battles at Nanshan and Fengtian. Because he was fearless even against enemy machine guns, charging forward relentlessly, people added the word “train” to his surname, which was how the nickname “Kuga Train” came to be.
No one in the geisha quarter could stop Kuga anymore. The troublemaking gang scattered and fled back to the brothel. Kuga, gradually calming down, exchanged a few words with his companions. The Salvation Army, having regrouped, left him behind and departed the area.
“Inako-kun, are you alright?”
Kuga came to her after he watched the Salvation Army leave, straightened his military cap, and dusted off his uniform. His anger had completely dissipated, replaced by his usual serious expression.
“Thanks to you, Kuga-san. You saved me.”
“As long as you’re unharmed. It’s not convenient to talk here, so let’s leave this place.”
Urged on by Kuga, the two left the geisha quarter. Walking south, they soon reached the bridge spanning the Sumizome Dam. Just below them, they could see steel cables suspending a boat on a cart.
“That ashtray hit you in the head just now? Are you alright?”
“It’s nothing, but what I did afterward was unforgivable. Using force to subdue people isn’t how missionaries should operate.”
“That’s true, but thanks to that, I was saved.”
“Even so. Charging ahead without thinking is an old bad habit of mine.”
“By the way, if you have time, come to my house. I want to thank you.”
Kuga hesitated at Inako’s invitation. “Ah, well…” he looked awkward.
“Onee-chan should be at home right now.”
“It’s because she’s home that I don’t want to go,” Kuga muttered. They’re still like that, Inako frowned.
“Don’t worry about it. Let’s go drink some of that delicious tea my sister makes.”
Kuga’s eyebrows twitched, but he reluctantly followed Inako, who was already taking small steps in the direction of her house.
Please feel free to message me for corrections. Also, here's my Ko-fi if you're feeling generous!
The anime is very very different from the novel, just like the violet evergarden anime in that sense, but i'm curious to see how the story will turn out
Next chapter will probably be split bc of how long it is
Translation Notes
This is a lyric from a popular song during the Meiji era. A shaved head refers to how Japanese men removed their topknots and adopted Western haircuts.
Otsutome is daily spiritual service done in front of a Buddhist altar that consists of chanting sutras, making prayers, and making offerings.
Amida-sama or Amida Nyorai is the Japanese name for Amitābha.
Sukhāvatī is the pure land (a paradise) created by Amida Nyorai.
O-Ise-san is the affectionate name for Ise Grand Shrine.
Carmencella was an American actress who performed at the fifth National Industrial Exhibition. She was known as the Fire Dancer and a Terpsichorean Marvel. She had a show which combined dancing and an electric light show.
Namu Amida Butsu is a prayer phrase that means "I take refuge in Amida Buddha"
|| Index || Next
“This is the beginning of the twentieth century.”
How many people in the Meiji era felt the arrival of a new century when they heard those words?
The first year of the twentieth century was 1901 in the Western calendar. In the Meiji era, it was the thirty-fourth year, which was no turning point for Japan. Thirty years had passed since the Meiji Restoration, and topknots and katanas had finally become a thing of the past. It can be said that Western civilization had made great strides, but for Japanese people who had long been accustomed to era names, the term “twentieth century” was still unfamiliar.
But it was precisely because it was unfamiliar that "twentieth century" had such a fashionable ring to it.
Just like when the Murai Brothers Company started selling cigarettes called “Twentieth Century,” the merchants all started using it as an advertising slogan. “Twentieth century” was seen everywhere from store banners to advertisements.
They didn’t know what the twentieth century was. But it was most certainly an auspicious thing because all the important people were talking about it, and it was used as a sales pitch. It was the Japanese spirit to go along with auspicious things.
Just as slapping a shaven head made the sound of modernity, when commoners tried saying “twentieth century” out loud, they felt as if they had been completely transformed into people of a new era. (1)
The term “twentieth century” was new. New words had authority. If you showered someone who clung to old ideas with the words “in the coming twentieth century,” you would be able to unilaterally brand them as “outdated.” It was the very return of the Imperial standard that boasted tremendous power during the Boshin War.
As the young people marched forward carrying the flag of the twentieth century and preaching new ideas such as naturalism and women’s liberation, the people of the old era cheered them on with “Oi, twentieth century!”
It was the first New Year of the twentieth century. In a small Buddhist temple named Zenshokuji located in Otsu, Goshu-Omi Province, rice cakes were busily being made as offerings to the principal deity, and New Year's sake and osechi were being served to visiting followers, just like any other New Year. There was not a single trace of the twentieth century there.
The son of the head priest, Sakamoto Kihachi, was turning nine this year. After finishing his duties, he was praying in front of the home shrine in the back room when his older brother, Seiroku, came in with a grin on his face.
“Oi, twentieth century. What are you doing so enthusiastically?”
“I was giving the New Year’s greetings to the ancestors,” Kihachi answered, turning towards Seiroku and tilting his head. “I’ve been wondering about it for a while, but what is this twentieth century?”
“Oh, you’re interested?”
Seiroku sat down next to him while shivering from the cold in his large padded kimono. He would be eighteen next month, but his smiling face was dignified yet somewhat childish.
“Unlike the Western calendar, a century is counted as a century every hundred years. It’s been 1900 years since the birth of Jesus Christ, so the twentieth century is starting this year.”
“Why do we have such a complicated way of counting even though we got the Western calendar?”
“Who knows? Well, if it’s a long period of time, you can describe that era concisely. If it’s a century with a lot of wars, you can call it the ‘Century of War,’ or if it’s a century with a lot of industrial development, you can call it the ‘Century of Industry.’”
“So what kind of century will the twentieth century be?”
“I’ve got something good to show you.” Seiroku then took out a newspaper clipping from his pocket and handed it to Kihachi. “Read this. It’s an article that predicts what kind of era the twentieth century will be.”
The newspaper contained an article entitled “Prophecies of the Twentieth Century.”
There were twenty-three prophecies in total, centering on technological developments, such as, “Cordless telephones will be developed, making it possible to call from New York to Tokyo,” and “Railways with air conditioning and heating will enable travel between Tokyo and Kobe within two and a half hours.”
“This prophecy says that electricity will replace firewood and coal as fuel, but what does that mean?”
“Electricity will power everything. Not just telephones, but also locomotives, temperature control devices, and cameras.”
Electricity.
Just like the twentieth century, that was also something Kihachi wasn’t familiar with.
When he heard the word electricity, he thought of electric lights, but those weren’t something ordinary people could easily afford. Oil lamps were used in this house. So when he went with Seiroku to see the electric lights that were lit in Otsu for the first time four years ago, he was shocked to see how much brighter their lights were than lamps or candles.
This was the age when that profoundly mysterious, smokeless light drove machines.
“I see, so the twentieth century is the Century of Electricity.”
Seiroku looked dumbfounded at Kihachi’s words, but then he grinned, showing his white teeth. “You’re right. The twentieth century is the Century of Electricity.”
Feeling a stirring in his chest, Kihachi took out a blank folding book from the chest of drawers in the back room.
“I’ll try writing predictions for the twentieth century too.”
Kihachi’s clumsy handwriting was engraved in pencil into the book, which would normally contain sutras, prayers, and other sacred texts. When he finally finished, Seiroku peered inside.
“‘Number 1: Night-Repeller: Garments made of electric lights. You can walk around at night even without a lantern.’”
After Seiroku urged him to write more, Kihachi added two more items in a row.
“‘Number 2: Spirit camera: Photographing the spirits of ancestors and family members manifested by electric lights. Number 3: Electric cannon. …Allows humans to move at the speed of lightning.”
Seiroku collapsed into laughter after reading what he wrote. “Stop laughing at me,” Kihachi pouted and tried to hide the book, but Seiroku snatched it from him before he could.
“Wait. Since you wrote all that, I’ll give this book of predictions a name.”
Though no one asked for it, Seiroku quickly grinded some ink and hmmed in thought.
“From what I can read from these predictions, it seems you’ve become interested in electricity...alright, I got it.”
With that, he handed Kihachi the folding book with something scribbled on the cover.
Electrical Catalog.
That was the name of Kihachi’s book of predictions.
“From now on, write your electricity-related predictions here. Since it’s the twentieth century, write twenty.”
The year was Meiji 36 (1903). Two years have passed since the brothers’ exchange.
While enduring the humidity of early summer, Kihachi was crouching down in the storehouse.
The doors of the storehouse were closed firmly, and the inside was musty and deathly silent. In the darkness, Boys’ May Festival dolls, old furniture, and Buddhist items seemed like lurking, silent monsters about to pounce on him.
Kihachi squeezed his eyes shut as he leaned against the wall, breathing raggedly. Just then, he heard the bar on the doors lifting and jumped up. The double doors swung open, and the bright daylight dazzled him.
“Oi, Twentieth Century! What are doing, locking yourself up in this gloomy place?” a self-assured voice rang out. Kihachi opened his eyes a crack and found Seiroku standing imposingly at the storehouse’s entrance.
“Nii-chan, why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be at the store?”
“I was given a holiday, so I came home. Were you locked up in the storehouse again?”
“...Dad yelled at me today because I was spacing out during Otsutome.” (2)
“That old man, it’s not like the tolerant Amida-sama would get mad at something like that.” (3)
“You’re one to talk. You don’t even believe in Paradise or Buddha.”
“My principle is not believing what I can’t see with my own eyes,” Seiroku said, laughing uproariously.
Though Seiroku grew up in a Buddhist temple, he did not believe in the gods or Buddhas at all. For that reason, he constantly clashed with their father and chief priest of Zenshoku-ji, Kumagorou—priest name Shaku Enki. After graduating from a commercial school in Otsu, he went to live and work at their uncle’s Buddhist altar store in Kyoto.
Since Seiroku only visited home once in a while, it had in fact been a few months since the brothers last saw each other.
"Anyways, it’s unusual for you to space out during Service.”
“...I was wondering what Sukhāvatī is like.” (4)
Zenshoku-ji mainly worshipped Amida Nyorai, who was said to save people with infinite light, no matter where or when, even in the darkness of ignorance. The land he created was called the Pure Land of Sukhāvatī.
It was a paradise said to be to the west of this world, on the other side of one hundred thousand million Buddha-lands. It was said to be a world without suffering, filled with beautiful flowers and music, where birds sang like celestial maidens, and where the light of Amida Nyorai enveloped all.
The main hall, where the Buddha was enshrined, was resplendent and magnificent with its gold decorations, supposedly to represent the Pure Land. It was part of Kihachi’s daily routine to perform Service with Enki in the mornings and evenings, but as he stared at the main hall this morning, he found himself daydreaming about the Pure Land and ended up making a mistake in his recitation of the scriptures.
Suddenly, Seiroku spotted the object Kihachi was clutching to his chest and nimbly pulled it out.
“I was wondering what you were hugging so preciously. It’s the Electrical Catalog.”
Kihachi tried to get it back, but Seiroku lightly evaded him as he opened the notebook, then started cackling.
“Number 6. Electric mover: Delivering items automatically by hanging items from an electric line.”
But he stopped laughing when he turned the page. He knitted his brows, looking bored, and thrusted the Electrical Catalog back to Kihachi.
“That’s it? You haven’t even filled up half the notebook.”
“I don’t know anything about electricity at all,” Kihachi pouted. “It’s the same with the Pure Land. I can’t understand things I haven’t seen, no matter how much I think about them.”
“Then this will be perfect,” Seiroku’s expression brightened for some reason. He held out his hand to the light shining in from the outside. “I’m taking you to the Pure Land.”
“...To where?”
“The Pure Land! If you don’t understand something, then you should see it with your own eyes.”
“Are we going to commit double suicide?”
“Dummy, do you really think we’re going to the other side of the one hundred thousand million Buddha-lands in the west? It’s still in the west, but it’ll take around two hours by train to get there.”
“The Pure Land can’t be that close. Are you taking me to see a play or something...” Kihachi, clutching his head, remembered something he must not forget and looked up, his face pale. “Have you told Dad yet?”
“Not at all. We’re sneaking out of the house. And I didn’t even tell him I’m back.”
“No, no, he’s definitely going to yell at me later.”
“You won’t die, you’ll be fine. Trust me.”
Even so, Kihachi hesitated. “We’re going now,” Seiroku dragged him off. “Everything looks dark when you’re locked up in a storehouse like this.”
Kihachi was disoriented by the strong sunlight as soon as he stepped outside. At some point, the trees in the garden had become covered in new green leaves. Before he knew it, summer had already begun outside in earnest.
“If we’re going out without telling anyone, then we should have gone to O-Ise-san,” (5) Kihachi muttered as he sat on the hard seats of the train. Next to him, Seiroku laughed. “Like a nukemairi?”
In the past, when mass pilgrimages to Ise Grand Shrine were popular among the masses, apprentices and maids would sneak out of their houses to visit the shrine. This was called nukemairi. Those who returned from nukemairi were said to have received divine blessings for business prosperity, so they weren’t punished by their masters.
“Dad might forgive us if we are on a nukemairi. Anyways, the place you’re taking to me to is like a temple festival street stall, right? There’s nothing surprising about that kind of place.”
“Then where should I take you to surprise you?”
Kihachi thought about it for a little bit. A postcard with a picture of a French townscape he once saw came to mind.
The alabaster and magnificent Arc de Triomphe, the resplendently decorated Palace of Versailles, and the Eiffel Tower which pointed upwards to the sky. That foreign scenery was completely different from anything in Japan. It didn’t even seem like a place that existed in this world.
“Got it. I’ll be surprised if you took me to France.”
Kihachi assumed that Seiroku would chuckle and say he couldn’t do that, but on the contrary, Seiroku’s expression turned more and more triumphant.
“Well then, that works out perfectly.”
A few hours later, Kihachi was in France.
A giant gate, painted white and resembling the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, rose before his dazed eyes.
He was quite sure that just a few minutes ago, he had gotten off the train at Umeda Station in Osaka and walked to Tennou-ji. “Well? Are you surprised now?” Seiroku, standing next to him, puffed out his chest. “This is the venue of the Fifth National Industrial Exhibition.”
The National Industrial Exhibitions were Japanese “expos” that were staged five times since the Meiji era began.
Since Japan was opened to the world, the nation was absorbing the culture and technology of the Western great powers in an effort to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with them and developing the ability to eventually become a leading nation. However, compared to the Western nations, there were still things that hadn’t yet been achieved in Japan.
One of those things was holding an international exposition. “International expos” was the common name for them.
The Western nations all held international expos for the goal of showcasing the newest technologies and promoting industries, but it was an impossible task for Japan, which only possessed immature technologies, to hold an international expo. So, it was proposed that Japan would hold its own expo instead. This was the National Industrial Exhibition.
As the exhibitions were increased, so were the positive reviews. And so this year, in Meiji 36 (1903), the fifth National Industrial Exhibition, said to be the grandest yet, was held in Tennou-ji, Osaka.
Kihachi would only know all this afterwards. At this time, he felt as if he had been spirited away to an unfamiliar world.
After Seiroku took out the tickets he had bought in advance, they passed through the gate and emerged onto an avenue with flower beds and fountains arranged down the middle. The long avenue was packed with visitors, and it was lined on both sides with elaborately decorated white Western-style houses.
“These buildings seem to be the exhibition halls. Let’s go to the Machinery Pavilion first.”
As soon as they entered the Machinery Pavilion, their ears were assailed by a thunderous roar that sounded like monster snores. The pungent smell of metal and oil made it hard to breathe, and Kihachi saw with his own eyes rows of gleaming black machines producing soap and tobacco.
The machines here all seemed to be powered by electricity. Electric fans relieved the heat inside, and Kihachi, enjoying the breeze, marveled at the power of electricity powering the various machines.
He quickly grew accustomed to the machines. But in the Wonder Pavilion, which they visited next, he found even more astonishing things.
The exhibits were all ghastly and extraordinary. During the wireless telegraph demonstration, Kihachi was terrified by the invisible radio waves; and during the X-ray demonstration, he was so frightened by the light that could penetrate human skin and reveal bones that he couldn’t even stand up straight.
“That’s enough, I’m scared. Let’s go home,” Kihachi grumbled.
“Then this will be our last stop,” Seiroku said, and led him to the adjacent theater.
The audience was buzzing amongst themselves in the darkened seats. Kihachi was uneasy, wondering if something was about to happen. Just then, the stage lights came on, and a Western woman in a white dress began to dance to music.
The dancing woman, her white skirts unfurling like wings, was illuminated by colorful lights, making the skirts appear to shift and change colors. This beautiful dance, reminiscent of fluttering butterflies or flowers, was the electric fire dance performed by the actress Carmencella. (6) Before he knew it, Kihachi was entranced.
“That dance was incredible! I want to see it again!”
Even after the performance, Kihachi was eager for more. “I don’t have that much money,” Seiroku said, looking unusually troubled. He carried Kihachi out of the theater. By then, Kihachi’s fear had completely transformed into interest.
At the Canadian pavilion, canned fruit and boxes of sweets were stacked almost to the ceiling.
Kihachi looked at the confectionery tower with longing. Seiroku, smiling wryly, bought him a jar of cookies tied with a red ribbon. Kihachi quickly grabbed a cookie and shoved it in his mouth. The crisp texture and an incredible sweetness filled his mouth.
The amusement in which wooden horses spun around in a circle—called a carousel—was also quite fun. Seiroku and Kihachi sat on the horses, laughing innocently with the children and adults around them.
The two went on to tour the entire expo, finally ascending the observation deck of the Obayashi Tower.
From there, they could not only see the panoramic view of the entire venue bathed in the setting sun, but also the cityscape of Osaka with its towering factory chimneys, and even the city of Minoo in the north.
“The view is amazing. I wonder if we can even see Kyoto from here.”
“It is beautiful, but the ‘box’ we rode up in was scary.”
The Obayashi Tower was fifty meters tall. To get to the observation deck, one must use a conveyance called an “elevator” in the West. Kihachi was amazed by its convenience.
“Like the machines on display, that is powered by electricity.”
“Electricity really is amazing. It can even move people to a place this high.”
“But Japanese technology is still undeveloped. It’s still a far cry from the Paris Expo three years ago.”
Seiroku was referring to the Paris Expo held in Meiji 33 (1900). The moving walkways that carried people and the hundred-meter-tall Ferris wheel were all hot topics.
“Ah, I really want to go to Paris,” Seiroku sighed as he gazed at the view before him. “I want to climb the Eiffel Tower just once.”
“You still love going up to high places, huh, Nii-chan.”
In the twilight sky, the moon hung faintly in the corner. Kihachi recalled the first moving picture he had ever seen in his life. It was called A Trip to the Moon. It was based on a novel by the French author Jules Verne and told the story of a group of Westerners launched to the moon in a giant cannonball.
“There wasn’t a rabbit pounding mochi on the moon in that moving picture.”
“What, don’t tell me you still believe in that?”
“You don’t believe in things like that at all. You even said that the Pure Land doesn’t exist.”
“I’ve told you many times that I don’t believe in anything I can’t see with my own eyes.”
“…Even the Pure Land? Then if it doesn’t exist, where do people go when they die?”
Seiroku placed his hand on the slightly uneasy Kihachi’s head. “I don’t know,” he said simply. “But after I die, I plan on going to the moon. The moon is higher than anywhere on Earth. I want to see with my own eyes if there really is a rabbit pounding mochi.”
He smiled his usual confident smile as he spoke, but it felt more solemn than usual. The sun was already setting, and the sky was dyed a deep, dark red. Night was about to fall.
The two descended from the tower and headed towards the gate, preparing to go home. The closing bell rang, and visitors emerging from the various pavilions gathered on the main road. Kihachi felt nervous amidst the clamor of this unknown land and wanted to go home as soon as possible, but Seiroku walked leisurely beside him.
As if to further unsettle the already anxious Kihachi, Seiroku suddenly stopped.
“Sorry, I need to go to the restroom.”
Kihachi was about to make a noise of protest, but not wanting his brother to think he was a coward, he nodded reluctantly. “I’ll be back in five minutes,” Seiroku said, and left.
Kihachi sat down on a bench by the fountain and opened the jar Seiroku bought for him at the Canadian pavilion.
The red ribbon tied to the jar had gone missing at some point, which he found a shame, but his bad mood vanished instantly after eating the sweet cookies. Five minutes passed quickly as he chewed on the precious cookies little by little.
“The restroom must be pretty crowded.”
The cookies were all gone. Ten minutes, fifteen minutes, then thirty, forty minutes. Kihachi, waiting for so long, began to realize that something wasn’t right. He stood up from the bench and looked around, but there were no familiar faces in the crowd.
The sun had now completely set. The chalk-white buildings gradually turned a dim, deep blue. Kihachi felt a chill run down his spine. He couldn’t calm his mind down.
“Nii-chan!” he shouted those words with all his strength, but received no response. His anxiety only intensified. The thought of being stuck in this unfamiliar place at night, not knowing how to get home, made his teeth chatter. Tears streamed down his face.
Will I never be able to go home again? I don’t want that. I don’t care if Dad beats me as long as I can go home safely.
A wave of fear washed over him, as though something was about to attack him in the darkness. Kihachi crouched down on the ground, tears streaming down his face, desperately chanting, “Namu Amida Butsu, Namu Amida Butsu.” (7)
Doing a museum themed stamp rally for WHA at Denver Fanexpo!
Here's my prize piece, based on Monet's "Bridge over a pond of water lilies" :D
I think it turned out rather nice <3
Just wanted to thank you for making a Tsurune's novels translation !!
By reading some of the novel I understood how much changes they've made in the anime, so you really bought us a fresh perspective !!
Thanks a lot ! ✨️
PS : What do you think of the changes made in the anime and what change did you hate the most ?
I feel like this is kinda an unpopular opinion but i think the novels are not very good 😅 i love the characters and the relationships but the overall plot and writing of the novels are hit or miss for me (especially book 3...) so i actually think the anime is a more polished and fleshed out version of the story and will probably recommend people interested in tsurune to watch the anime first. Season 2 is peak imo
Honestly its been a while since i watched the anime so i cant recall the exact changes they made. I do remember thinking that seiya and kaito's relationship is simplified in the anime compared to the novels tho
Hi! First of all I really want to thank you for all your efforts and hard work, for all this wonderful content you give us! Thank you so much! 🌻💛
I want to ask why some of the links to your Tsurune content f.e. Fan Book are not working?
I would be very grateful for your reply! 💛
sorry for the late reply! the reason why the fan book link doesn't work is bc...i never actually got around to translating anything from the fan book 😅
if there's anything you guys want to see, like stuff about specific characters, pls let me know
i should also mention that i only have the season 1 fanbook. if any of you have the season 2 fanbook and would like me to translate it, pls feel free to send me an ask or dm!
Tsurune Character Songs translation - Growing Up (sung by Kaito and Nanao)
Tsurune translation masterpost here
Kaito
Two shadows stand side by side in the dusk-tinged town
These are simply ordinary days
Nanao
Though nothing's the same as back then
You're still by my side as ever
Stubbornly trying to shoulder everything alone
I must support that tough-guy back
Both
No matter how much we clash
No matter how deeply we connect
Kaito
These are surely feelings we can't give up
(That's so like us)
Both
The moment I realize how reassuring it is
Even though I could feel the reason
Nanao
For why it feels so comforting in your back
I don't want to lose
Kaito
Before we knew it, the shadows lengthened
Each taking a different shape
Nanao
And growing up. All of it
Makes the bonds stronger
Kaito
I decided to always hold your hand so you wouldn't stray
The answer remains the same as back then
Both
No matter how much time passes
No matter how much we pretend to be adults
Nanao
We'll always be the same two people
(That's so like us)
Both
The doubts we held deep inside
Clear away when we realize
Kaito
We're being watched over
We know that deep down
Nanao
Opposites yet somehow alike
Kaito
I've always been watching your gentle strength beside me
Both
Feelings that words can't express
No matter how much we clash,
No matter how deeply we connect
There are things we simply won't yield
(That's so like us)
Even if we stay apart yet not too far
Someday we'll overcome
Our overlapping hearts crying out
We don't want to lose
Tsurune Character Songs translation - Ari no Mama de (As We Are) sung by Ryouhei and Nanao
Tsurune translation masterpost here
Both
So that we can always keep smiling
Let's forward, just as we are
Ryouhei
Days pass in a dizzying whirl
Another new morning arrives
Nanao
We greet each other like usual when we see each other
Always smiling, you're there naturally
Ryouhei
Tangible things aren't everything
Even without words, that's understood
Nanao
Our hearts feel strangely close
Always staying warm
Both
In the endless cycle of days
If only I could stay unchanged
Then I could walk even bumpy roads
Nanao
Don't just count the days that go wrong
Both
Let's always keep our eyes on the little joys
Nanao
Strong and upright
Like sunflowers swaying in the wind
Ryouhei
Reaching toward the sunlight, stretching endlessly
Just wanting to chase the same scenery
Ryouhei
With each new thing I learn
Though I may stumble sometimes
Nanao
I'll never give up and rise again
Because everyone knows
That unwavering strength
Nanao
Before I knew it, it slipped in
Right into the heart of the sunlit spot
The bond that is wrapped in that kindness
Ryouhei
No matter what happens, just be your true self
May I never forget these words
Both
In the endless cycle of days, to a new direction
I hope tomorrow stays clear too
Ryouhei
Stop counting only what you're missing
Both
Let's walk step by step through every precious day
Just as we are
