46
The story begins with a smooth rhythm through which one can barely perceive the conflicting undercurrents in Tokio's mind.
. . . Although he [Tokio] had hesitated to grasp at the opportunities twice, he was waiting for a faint hope, in the bottommost reaches of his heart, of the possibility of a third or a fourth opportunity, then starting a new life.
. . . Love! love! love! To think that even now he was at the mercy of such a passive fate; his heart ached to the core at his lack of spirit and his hapless destiny.[1]
These reflective intonations and unhurried cues break quickly and naturally when Tokio mutters the following words:
Nonsense! How can love discriminate between a mentor and his pupil![2]
Behind all this is the emotional rhythm of the scene, which emerges to enrich and refine the general tone of the story:
Sad, very sad. This sadness was not the type experienced by youth, nor merely, sadness of love between men and women, but it was the profound sadness which lay hidden in the depths of human life. The flow of running waters, the falling of blooming flowers--when one realized the irresistible power that lurked at the innermost depth of nature, nothing was so ephemeral as human beings.[3]
What has been below the surface and what we have partly suspected in Tokio now becomes apparent. It is the conflict between responsibilities as a mentor and his natural desires as a man:
Tokio was worried. His thoughts wavered in judgment several times a day. One time he thought he was prepared to sacrifice himself for their sake. Another time, he thought that he would stop her love affair at one stroke by revealing the true situation to her parents. But, in his present state of mind he could not venture to select either of these plans.[4]
