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“Ha! ‘My having gone out of my way to save you’—I like that! It’s a perfect example, young master, of what’s so hard to stomach about you gentlemen of refinement. You think that your own acts of kindness are proof of a higher morality, and deep down inside you feel you deserve some sort of reward. But if someone shows you a little kindness, you’re mortified. God forbid you should have to associate with someone like me as if we were equals, right? Ah, young master, you disappoint me! All right, then, let me put it to you straight.

“The only reason you helped me out was because I’m a tortoise and my tormentors were children. To intervene between a tortoise and children isn’t likely to bring about much in the way of repercussions. What did you give them—five coppers? That’s big money to a child, but it’s not much skin off your back, is it? I thought you’d put up a bit more than that. Miserly isn’t the word. How do you think it makes me feel? Five coppers for my life. For you it was just a whim of the moment. ‘A few coppers to rescue a tortoise—oh, hell, why not?’ But suppose it wasn’t children teasing a tortoise but, say, a group of rowdy fishermen tormenting some sickly beggar. Would you have offered so much as a single copper? Hardly. You would have scowled and hurried past, not wanting to get involved. Gentlemen like you despise having your faces rubbed in raw reality. I guess it makes you feel as if your lofty destiny is being dragged through the gutter.

“Kindness, for people like you, is nothing more than a minor diversion. A little titillation. You rescued me because I’m a tortoise. You put up money because they were children. But a sickly beggar and rowdy fishermen? That would be another story altogether. To have the smelly wind of real life blowing in your face would be more than you could bear. That’s what we call being a snob, Urashima-san.

“Hey, you’re not angry, are you? I love you, after all—or don’t you want to hear that? It’s a delicate situation. You people with lofty destinies seem to think it’s a disgrace to be admired even by people of lowly birth, let alone a tortoise. To be loved by a tortoise must be repulsive to you. But, look, have a heart. Love and hate aren’t based on logic, after all. It’s not because you rescued me that I love you, and it’s not because you’re a man of refinement. I just do, that’s all. And it’s because I love you that I have this urge to tease you. It’s how we cold-blooded creatures express our love. Well, we do have snakes in the family, so I guess I can’t blame you for not trusting me. But I’m not the serpent from the Garden of Eden, for heaven’s sake, I’m a genuine Japanese tortoise. I’m not scheming to entice you to the Dragon Palace so I can cause your downfall. Try to understand my feelings. I just want to play with you. I’d like us to have some fun together in a very special place.

“You won’t find people disturbing the peace by criticizing one another down there. Life in the Dragon Palace is gentle, leisurely, live-and-let-live. The place is built for enjoyment. Me, I can live on land or under the sea, so I’ve had a chance to compare the two, and I’ll tell you, life up here is too full of stress. Everyone’s forever criticizing everyone else. When someone opens his mouth on land it’s either to say something nasty about others or to praise himself. It gets tiresome fast. But I’ve been up on land like this so many times that I too have become tainted. I’ve learned to engage in the same sort of snobbish one-upsmanship that’s so popular here. It’s bad, I know, but there’s something habit-forming about finding fault with others, and now life in the Dragon Palace sometimes seems dull to me. Civilization is a real monkey on my back, I’ll tell you. I no longer know if I’m a creature of the sea or the land. I’m somewhere in between, I guess, like the bat—is it a bird or a beast?—and it’s getting harder and harder for me to stay put in my own home. This much I can guarantee you, though: the Dragon Palace is the ultimate place to relax and have fun in. Trust me. It’s a world of singing, dancing, delectable food, and wonderful wine. Perfect for a discriminating man like yourself. After all, aren’t you the one who was just complaining about criticism? It doesn’t exist in the Dragon Palace.”

The tortoise’s rather astounding garrulity is such that Urashima has given up even trying to interject a response, but these last few words pierce his heart.

“Ah,” he sighs, “if only there really were such a place!”

The tortoise glares at him.

“You still doubt what I’m saying? I’m not lying to you, damn it! Now you’ve made me angry. Is this what all you refined gentlemen are like—wishing and pining and never acting? You make me sick.”

Not even the meek and mild Urashima can back down from a challenge as pointed, and as barbed, as this.

“Very well!” he says with another wry smile. “Just as you wish. I’ll climb on your back and see what happens.”

But the tortoise is genuinely irate.

“The way you put things really rubs me the wrong way, you know that? What do you mean, ‘and see what happens’? To climb on my back and to climb on my back and see what happens add up to exactly the same thing. In terms of sealing your fate, there’s no difference between turning right on a whim and turning right because you’ve come to some momentous resolve. Either way, it can’t be undone. Once you’ve given in to that whim, your destiny is decided. There’s no such thing as ‘seeing what happens’ in this life. To do something just to see what happens is exactly the same as just plain doing it. You gentlemen of refinement have a lot to learn about resigning yourselves to fate. You actually think you can turn back once you’ve taken a leap?”

“All right! I’m climbing on your back because I believe you.”

“Now you’re talking!”

As Urashima seats himself on the tortoise’s shell it settles and expands, until it’s almost wider than he can reach across. The tortoise pushes off into the waves, rocking gently from side to side. They are perhaps two stones’ throw from shore when he issues a terse command.

“Close your eyes.”

Urashima obediently complies and in the next moment hears a sound like a sudden shower and feels something like a warm spring breeze, only heavier, tickling his earlobes.

“Depth: one thousand fathoms,” the tortoise announces.

Urashima experiences a slight nausea.

“Is it all right if I have to throw up?” he says, his eyes still clamped shut.

“What? You’re going to puke?” The tortoise reverts to a coarser tone of voice as he turns his head to look back. “What a revolting— My word! You’ve still got your eyes closed, like a good little boy! That’s what I love about you, young master. You may open your eyes now. Drink in the scenery and you’ll stop feeling queasy in no time.”

He opens his eyes to a vast, hazy expanse lit with an ethereal pale green glow that casts no shadows.

“So this... is the Dragon Palace,” he whispers dreamily.

“Snap out of it. We’ve only descended a thousand fathoms. The Dragon Palace is ten thousand fathoms under the sea.”

“Sheee!” Urashima’s voice is a squeak. “The sea’s deep, isn’t it?”

“You were raised near the sea, for heaven’s sake. You sound like some ape from the mountains. Yeah, it’s deep. It’s not to be compared to the pond in your garden.”

Ahead, behind, left, right—whichever direction Urashima looks, there is only that seemingly boundless, hazy expanse. Below him too he can see nothing but the pale green glow, and when he looks up he sees not the blue sky but an immeasurable dome of watery emerald light. Aside from their own voices, not a sound can be heard. There is only that sensation of wind, like a viscous spring breeze, blowing in his face and tickling his ears.

He finally spots something far in the distance, above and to the right—a tiny, faint, speckled something, like a handful of scattered ashes.

“What’s that? A cloud?”


Tags: Osamu Dazai Fantasy