The staff was still checking the fifth proofs for the final section of the dictionary, containing words starting with the series ya-yu-yo. They left Kishibe in charge and set out for the hospital in Tsukiji with a gathering rolled in a tube.
Professor Matsumoto was hooked up to an IV and had an oxygen tube in his nose to assist his breathing. The bed was raised and he was sitting up, leaning against pillows and writing something on a file card. When he caught sight of them, he smiled and laid his pencil on the bedside stand. “Well, well, Mr. Majime! It’s been a long time.”
Mrs. Matsumoto had temporarily gone home. Encouraged by the professor, whose voice sounded a bit raspy, Majime and Araki sat down in folding chairs by the bed.
He was no fatter or thinner than a year ago. His color looked slightly better, Majime thought as he studied the professor discreetly, looking for hopeful signs. Nudged by Araki once again, he caught himself. Mustn’t linger, mustn’t tire the professor out.
“We’re here because there’s something we couldn’t wait to show you.” He spread out the paper and laid it on the professor’s lap.
“Oh!” the professor murmured. It was an expression of delight, wrung from his innermost depths. “Finally, finally, The Great Passage has come this far!” His frail finger traced the characters.
Yes, finally a part of our dictionary is here before us, in print. Impulsively, Majime wanted to reach out and grasp the professor’s hand and say these words. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to do anything so improper.
“Professor Matsumoto,” said Araki, “The Great Passage will be published on schedule in March. As soon as a sample copy is available, we’ll bring it to you. Or better yet, let’s have a celebration in the office.”
“I’ll look forward to that.” The professor wore a look of pure joy, like the expression on the face of a boy who has captured a beautiful butterfly. “Thank you both so much.”
Professor Matsumoto died in mid-February, without waiting for the completion of The Great Passage.
After Araki called from the hospital to tell him the sad news, Majime opened his locker at work in a daze. He was checking to make sure he had a black tie. He knew it was strange to be checking for such a thing at such a time. His emotions and actions were at odds in a way he couldn’t control.
The Dictionary Editorial Department handled the wake and funeral arrangements, while helping Mrs. Matsumoto as well. Majime learned that the professor had been seventy-eight years old. He had left his post at the university well before retirement age and devoted himself from then on to lexicography. He had no students who kept in touch with him and distanced himself from the academic world, giving his life solely to words.
Araki had worked with the professor on dictionaries for many years, going back to when the professor still taught at the university. Araki had been a faithful partner, supporting him, encouraging him, and bringing various dictionaries into existence by the professor’s side. Now Araki was ushering mourners to their seats, dry-eyed. Perhaps silent wails were echoing inside him; his cheeks were sunken, the color of chalk.
That evening after the funeral Majime went home. He had brought purifying salt with him to scatter at the doorstep, following custom, but inwardly he cursed the idea. If the professor should choose to come back and watch over them, he would be only too glad.
Kaguya had arrived home just before him and was no longer wearing her mourning clothes. Apparently worried about him, she would be opening her restaurant a little later than usual that evening. They went up silently to the living room and drank hot tea that she’d prepared.
“I was too late,” Majime murmured. He hadn’t been able to show The Great Passage to Professor Matsumoto. If someone else had been assigned as editor, it might have been finished sooner. Because of my fecklessness, he died without ever seeing the realization of his lifelong dream.
Before he knew it, Majime was sobbing. In front of Kaguya, no less. Despite himself, tears and groans that sounded like animal cries kept coming and coming without end.
Kaguya came around the kotatsu and sat down beside him. Without saying a word, she gently caressed his shaking shoulders.
The launch party for The Great Passage took place in the banquet hall of a venerable hotel in Kudanshita just at the end of March, when the cherry buds were just about to bloom.
Scholars who had contributed to the dictionary were invited, along with representatives of the paper and printing companies. There were over one hundred guests in all. The festivities began with a welcome speech by the CEO of Gembu Books.
In the rear of the hall was a waist-high table bearing a copy of The Great Passage and a photograph of Professor Matsumoto, surrounded by flowers, with a large carafe of sake and a cup. The arrangement looked like a small altar. Mrs. Matsumoto paused in front of the table and looked at the display with moist eyes.
Too bad they couldn’t have invited all the student workers, thought Majime as he made the rounds of the buffet-style party, greeting guests. Management had feared that if the fifty-odd students came, they would descend on the food like a swarm of locusts and devour every scrap. Gembu’s budget couldn’t accommodate such extravagance, so they decided to take them all out to a bar on another day.
This evening, representatives of major bookstores and university libraries were also in attendance. Reviews of The Great Passage, which had been published two weeks earlier, were favorable, and sales were exceeding expectations. The party was an excellent chance to get even more orders, and the marketing department had gone all-out. The sales, promotion, and advertising staffs were on hand, too, busily pouring drinks, chatting, and otherwise attending to guests.
“Majime!”
Hearing his name, Majime turned to see Nishioka separate himself from a group and come toward him. He was wearing a narrowly cut suit with a red handkerchief poking out of the breast pocket. Majime couldn’t help staring at the handkerchief.
“My name is listed in the acknowledgments!” Nishioka sounded excited and deeply moved.
“Yep.”
“I bet that was your doing.”
“Professor Matsumoto was in the hospital, so I wrote it for him. Of course, I talked it over with him first.”
Since Nishioka used to work in the Dictionary Editorial Department and had exerted himself on behalf of The Great Passage, it was only natural that his name should be included. Majime couldn’t understand why he would bring it up. “Don’t tell me we got your name wrong or something.”
“No, that’s not it. It’s just that I wasn’t—I never—” He broke off, smiled wryly, and clapped Majime on the shoulder. “You son of a gun.” Then he disappeared back into the crowd.
Majime thought he had caught a faint “Thank you,” but he wasn’t sure.