I am a writer in Tokyo

Chapter 53 Ah, So Painful

"Those haiku, I think you should be the first reader in this world."

"Put a winter plum in the sleeve, and it will be called spring." The first generation murmured, then raised his head to look at Oshima Kazuya.

The street lights at night were extraordinarily bright, reflecting in the girl's pupils, as if the girl's eyes were shining.

"So the Snow Country is too?"

Oshima Kazuya smiled and said, "Isn't it all a pseudonym?"

"Does Yishu in Xiaoyuan mean the tree in the yard?" The first generation quickly thought of the figure standing under the wintersweet tree with his hands raised when he woke up that night.

"But why is he here..."

Such a talented person would actually choose to be in his own tavern.

This sounds very inconsistent.

It's like a billionaire going to the streets to grab plastic bottles from homeless people every night.

I also want to know this question.

Oshima Kazu also complained silently in his heart.

If he could know what the problem was, there would be no need for him to come here every day from once or twice a week before.

I will get tired of eating all the time.

"Actually, I think that as a person who gets along with him day and night, he should have a more intuitive understanding than me." Oshima Kazu also moved his frozen body a bit.

Turning around, he pointed towards the tavern of Ito's family: "I think I can actually feel the smell on him, an extremely strong bitter taste, even very pungent."

"This is not the same as sorrow, more like a ceramic tube full of bitters that was broken and then put back together very poorly with some adhesives.

Looking from the outside, there are dense cracks all over the place. I don't know what is supporting the cracked ceramic tubes so that they are not broken.

While shaking it from side to side, the bitter essence inside will leak out more or less, and then it is...very bitter. "

Oshima-sensei sighed.

Fortunately, the umbrella blocked the street light, so I couldn't see his forehead clearly.

Otherwise, it would be spread out like ravines, or wrinkled like twisted branches of old trees.

"So what Teacher Oshima actually means is that he is afraid that he will do something bad?"

Oshima Kazu did not take this sentence directly, but talked about another matter.

"I think when I was in class, I should have learned about the history of literature, right?"

Seeing the first generation nodding, he hummed and continued: "The group of writers is sick, especially good writers."

"Those writers who can get straight to the heart with one or two sentences or one or two stories are often people who are deeply trapped in the quagmire.

Because they have seen darkness, they yearn for light more than anyone else.

It's just that because of the huge gap, they feel as if the light they expected has not come so far.

So they choose to embrace death. "

Snowflakes fluttered down.

When you reach out to mop it, you will find that it has melted.

Can't get hold of it at all.

It's like being unable to catch those lives.

"So I think Teacher Bei Dao, he should be that kind of person.

We look forward to him being able to write good things, but we are also afraid that he will follow in the footsteps of those people.

I think, since you are a literature student, you should be able to feel what Ju's writing looks like.

So I thought, if you can, please help me take good care of him. "

Oshima Kazuya bowed deeply to the first generation, shouting words such as thank you very much.

This made the first generation very frightened.

She couldn't bear this courtesy.

He quickly bowed and apologized, and said that he would take care of him.

On the way back, the first generation was in a state of surprise.

She covered her slightly open mouth, digesting what Oshima Kazuya said just now.

So, it means that the poet and writer I admired so much are people around me?
And I have been with him day and night for such a period of time.

Although she was somewhat skeptical before, she didn't dare to admit the authenticity of this matter.

Maybe where did he hear it?
But the haiku came later, and yet he was so early.

No wonder Mr. Oshima turned his head to look at Kou Kitajima when talking about the prototype of Snow Country.

Suddenly all the mysteries were solved.

The first generation felt a little hot on his cheeks.

I have told Bei Daoju more than once about her admiration for this small courtyard teacher.

This must be a writer whose eyes sparkle with wisdom.

All the good things in this world are lingering in his fingers and so on...

So shy.

The first generation covered his hot cheeks with his hands, secretly revealing a gap in his fingers, and quietly looked at the lantern at the door of Ito's house.

The light seemed to be a little brighter.

But at the same time faced a very difficult problem.

That is, under the reminder of Mr. Oshima, it seems that Bei Daoju's situation is particularly serious.

I thought it was nothing.

But no matter how you look at it now, it looks like you are about to die.

have to figure out a way...

……

The first generation came back to his senses, looked at the still closed door, paused for a long time with his hand in the air, and finally retracted it.

If you look for him too frequently, you may see some clues, and at the same time, it will be even more counterproductive.

But judging from her current brain capacity, it was already a good idea to make an appointment to go out to play in the water yesterday.

Why did I meet at this time.

If it is spring, if it is summer, autumn is also possible.

The first generation originally liked winter quite a bit, but now she can't love it a bit.

Although this winter gave her a writer.

But this writer is... half dead.

She always felt that she was on a mission now.

But...

Everything has to be so accidental.

Don't be deliberate, don't rush, and don't be too aggressive.

Writers are extremely sensitive people.

But anything that is not quite right will be noticed.

what.

Why did Oshima teacher tell her this.

It's a bit nasty.

The first generation held his head and felt a headache.

If he was a flamboyant writer, maybe he would only feel how this is possible, but it doesn't matter if he is a writer.

But the current appearance is not as good as Merry.

Just when the first generation was thinking about how to deal with a half-dead person.

Bei Daoju, who was behind the door, leaned against the door at this moment, staring blankly at the window.

The wintersweet tree inside the window still stands there.

But as the weather gets warmer, the flowering period is approaching.

maybe in a while...

After all the wintersweet flowers have fallen...

After thinking about it, I finally finished writing the rest of Disqualification in the World and sent it over.

Then take a short break.

Maybe think about it and walk around this part of Tokyo.

(End of this chapter)