I am a writer in Tokyo

The village is quite a distance away from the hillside. I heard from Yamaguchi Ikki that this is to prevent landslides on rainy days.

If the road they were walking on was simply because there was no grass or trees on it or because it was relatively flat compared to other places, then it could probably be considered a road.

"So, generally speaking, few people would choose to go out." Yamaguchi Ikki knew what they were thinking, so he explained, "Of course, if they go out, they will almost never come back." He pointed to the winding dry riverbed and said, "Most of the people in the village are elderly people with limited mobility. It is difficult for them to go out, and they don't want to go out."

So, was the desolate area we saw in the distance earlier a reflection of the gradual decline in popularity?

Suddenly, the lush green grass and trees in the village before my eyes seemed a little withered.

Seeing that they didn't say anything, Yamaguchi naturally didn't say anything more. Until now, he still hadn't figured out why this group of people had spent so much effort to enter the village.

But who can understand the thoughts of a writer and teacher?

Maybe it's to get closer to nature or maybe...

He had heard about a new writer who, thanks to his pen, had made several places that were not famous before become well-known to everyone, and there was never a shortage of people at any time.

So, if his village could be written into the article, thinking of this, he raised his head and looked at the village carefully, then shook his head and gave up the idea.

There is an electric pole at the entrance of the village. It is the only one in the entire village. There are a few wires wrapped around it, and then these wires extend to the houses not far away that are slightly decent.

There is a dirt road in the center of the village. On both sides of the dirt road are some short and crooked bungalows. Some are built with red bricks, and some are sheds made of wooden strips and thatched roofs. Yamaguchi said that this can be considered a home.

My house doesn’t have those exquisite floor tiles like those in Tokyo, and of course it doesn’t have those beautiful ceilings. Maybe when I look up at night, I can still see the starry sky.

There was no threshold. Ju and the other two looked at each other, then squinted their eyes and looked into a brick house. The floor of the central hall was made of mud, a dark and greasy feeling. The floor was not very flat, but full of potholes. Large and small round pits were spread all over the mud like fish scales, and some places were covered with moss.

A tall electric wire was pulled from outside the village, with its other end tied to a utility pole at the entrance of the village. Then it came into the house alone, perched on the thickest beam in the hall, with a light bulb hanging down.

There were traces of burnt marks on the light bulb, probably because he had been hanged here for many years.

"This is my home." Yamaguchi led everyone to the door of the house they were observing. The sign at the door was a wooden board that was soaked by rain and covered with moss.

There is no yard here, or rather, it's all yards. When you walk to the door of the house, the door lock has turned yellow and rusty.

"Mr. Yamaguchi, you haven't been back for a long time?" Matsuo asked, looking around.

"Yeah, I come back once in a while to clean up the weeds and stuff like that."

Yamaguchi pushed the door, which had only a bolt left, and saw a very harsh sound coming from the door, which sounded like the wail of a burning torch being stuffed into a pool.

There was no dust in the house, probably because there were no windows and the door was mostly broken. If it weren't for the roof, it could probably be considered natural.

Except for Oshima Kazuya, no one had ever seen such a scene.

Oshima said calmly, "I had imagined this in my mind when I read the manuscript before, and of course it was because there is such a house in my hometown."

"Then life will be very bitter." Ju smelled the unique scent of moss in the air and said with sadness.

No one responded, but in fact everyone with a discerning eye knew the answer.

"So, where is Takumi Oyamada's home?"

By this point, everyone knows that Yamaguchi is a person who lives a relatively good life, so Oyamada Takumi's home is probably in a shed far away in the village.

Sure enough, I then heard Mr. Yamaguchi mention the leaning shed that they saw at the farthest point when they were standing at the entrance of the village, and said that was the poor man's home.

"He has always had a hard life. In the early years, we all felt that our lives were hard, but every time we thought about it, we would go to see his family, and then we would find that we were living a relatively good life compared to them."

Yamaguchi laughed awkwardly.

It was a shed that had fallen down.

There are four wooden strips in the front and back, and then broken tiles found from somewhere are placed on the top, placed in front and back, with a layer of thatch in the middle as the roof.

He added some stones to prevent air leakage around the walls.

Among the stones...

"That's because the soil is wetted and some hay and glutinous rice are added to it, which makes it a little sticky," Yamaguchi explained.

"He has lived here for a long time. Even if his son moves to the city, he will still live here."

"Is this right here?"

The wooden strips were covered with moss and had cracks.

Perhaps when the cracks and moss grow completely, this shed will no longer exist.

"They got married here, his wife gave birth here, and his son grew up here." Yamaguchi recalled the figure of the guy before, and suddenly found that he seemed to be unable to see his face clearly.

"This is home to him. Even his wife died here."

"Dead?"

Ju saw a small mound of earth not far away.

"Yes, his son moved to the city, and then he started to work outside the province, doing some low-paying jobs. At his age, many places don't want him.

His wife hemorrhaged heavily during childbirth. Although she survived, she has been sick ever since.

When he went out to work, she leaned here and looked at the entrance to the village.

On weekdays, I keep my head down and eat simple meals. "

"How simple it is."

"Just boil the rice in water and drink it."

"and then?"

"Then, she just kept her head down, occasionally looking up at the entrance to the village. Over time, her eyesight deteriorated, and she couldn't get up after sitting for a long time. Then, weeds grew around her, and she stared into the distance with the weeds."

Yamaguchi recalled the scene.

Under the short shed, the skinny figure, with his neck deeply sunken, his head buried between his legs, holding a bowl of rice water that he had consumed for who knows how long, was like this from day to night...

The only things that kept her company were the green, vibrant weeds...

But she was fading...

Until I lose my breath. (End of this chapter)