Work Text:
(Jan 02, 2025) The translation was originally done to accompany the Ueno/hanami chp 1 of Tokyo Interludes -- https://archiveofourown.org/works/59367301/chapters/158317402 so the focus is really on Seishirou and Setsuka’s exchange. Much thanks to Psiten for providing the drama cd and pamphlet, apologies in advance for the laziest translation ever.
Everything is narrated from Seishirou’s point of view.
This morning, I found an old comb. A red comb, it was the comb of the person who gave birth to me.
A comb that was always used by a person I used to call “Mother”.
(Seishirou uses 母母 [haha] not [okaasan] here, which is a little more intimate, but he switches between both at different points.)
Her appearance was like a young girl. Her small lips were red as if dyed with flowers, and with her long black hair…. She was very beautiful.
The white colour of her skin shines vividly in my memories. White skin, and the blood red that coloured her skin. In my memory, my mother is always accompanied by the smell of blood.
[ Sakurazukamori. ] My mother was the Sakurazukamori. She was my predecessor. I wonder how old she was, in fact, I still don’t know for sure. No matter how much time passed, she always looked like a young girl with a quiet smile on her face.
The first time I met her, it was in winter. I was 9 years old. I don’t know where my mother was before that.
I was born in Kanazawa, and my mother lived in Tokyo. Even when I was old enough to understand, I never once felt a desire to see my mother. Who gave birth to me, or who my father is, this makes no difference to me. It doesn’t matter.
My mother lived in a Japanese-styled house in the outskirts of Tokyo. She lived at the back of a large, single-storey mansion, in a dark room where the sun didn’t shine. It was a room surrounded by iron bars. Now that I think about it, it was probably a prison cell. A prison cell to lock up a girl whom I called “Mother.”
When we first met, the young girl smiled sweetly and said: “You’re my child.”
No one had told me this, but I felt those words were true. When I answered ‘yes’, she pressed her red lips against my cheek, laughed happily and said: “You’re going to kill me.”
In a dark Japanese-styled room, the room was barred like a prison cell, with only a few candles lit.
Seishirou’s mother, Setsuka, was next to Seishirou, who was still in middle school.
Seishirou: “That sounds fun, mother.”
Setsuka leaned on Seishirou with a smile, like a young girl before her coming-of-age. She giggled and placed her hand on Seishirou’s cheek.
Setsuka: “Because Seishirou came.” Setsuka smiled. “Here, look at this camellia kimono. I heard Seishirou was coming today, so I wore it for the first time.”
Seishirou: “It’s very beautiful.”
Setsuka: “Really?”
Seishirou: “Really.”
Setsuka: “So which is more beautiful, the kimono, or me?”
Seishirou: “Of course you are.”
Setsuka hugged Seishirou happily.
Setsuka: “Seishirou…. I love you.”
Seishirou: “You love me?”
Setsuka: “Yes, I love you.”
Setsuka gave him a flirtatious smile.
Setsuka: “But Seishirou doesn’t care anything for me.”
Seishirou: “Is that so?”
Setsuka: “Yes, because, can you tell me it isn't?”
Seishirou: “What do you think?”
Setsuka: “You can’t deny it.” Setsuka laughed again. “Honestly, Seishirou.”
Setsuka gently placed her ear against Seishirou’s chest.
Setsuka: “It’s strange. You have no heart, yet you have a heart.”
Seishirou: “Without a heart, you’ll die.”
Setsuka: “Oh you won’t be bothered at all if you die.” She looked up at Seishirou with dark eyes. “You won’t have any trouble, right? There’s nothing to be scared of when it comes to dying, right?”
Setsuka: “That’s right. There’s nothing important here. Nothing you regret losing, because you don’t have anything painful to leave behind in this world.”
Seishirou: “....................”
Seishirou didn't answer but just looked at Setsuka.
Setsuka: “What is it? You look like you want to say something.” Setsuka smiled mischievously.
Seishirou: “Do you have one?”
Setsuka smiled and whispered into Seishirou’s ear. “.......That’s a secret.”
Setsuka giggled.
Setsuka: “Today. It’s been a while since I last went outside.”
Seishirou: “Who did you kill?”
Setsuka: “I don’t know. It was a man. A big one. As he died, he looked at me with sad eyes. He said he was scared to die. ‘There’s someone I love. That’s why I don’t want to die.’”
Seishirou: “Did you have fun?”
Setsuka: “Lots.”
Seishirou: “That’s good then.”
Setsuka: “Why?”
Seishirou: “When you’re having fun, I’m happy too.”
Setsuka: “Liar.”
Seishirou: “That’s not a lie.”
Setsuka: “You don’t care about me at all.”
Seishirou: “That’s not true.”
Setsuka: “How can you say that?”
Seishirou: “Because you’re so beautiful.”
Setsuka laughed again.
Setsuka: “Do you like beautiful things?”
Seishirou: “I love you.”
Setsuka: “What is so beautiful about me?”
Seishirou: “Your hair, your eyes, your lips, everything….. I find it hard to believe you gave birth to me, Mother.”
Seishirou stared at Setsuka.
Seishirou: “You will always remain a young girl.”
(Seishirou uses the word “shojo” to describe her often, which has a sort of double meaning at points. Shojo as in “young girl”, but also as in “maiden”. He finds it hard to believe that Setsuka gave birth to him because she looks like a young maiden/untouched. This point comes up often because she has the image of someone before their coming-of-age; the ceremony that makes one into an adult, at the age of 20.)
Setsuka: “But, the end will come soon.”
Seishirou: “........”
Setsuka: “Right, Seishirou?”
Seishirou: “........”
Setsuka: “You’ll finish this for me, right?”
Seishirou: “That’s right.”
Setsuka smiled happily. “I’m so happy.”
Setsuka: “I heard you were coming today so I picked some for you. Here you go.”
Setsuka pulled back the hem of her kimono, and held up a flower arrangement basin in her hands.
Setsuka: “It’s a camellia. A red camellia.”
Seishirou: “These are your favourite flowers.”
Setsuka’s expression turns dreamy.
Setsuka: “It falls to the ground with a thud, like a person’s head being cut off. I love it.”
Setsuka: “On a snowy day, red camellias fall. I really like how the white snow looks like it's stained with bright red blood.”
Seishirou: “Well, next time I’ll bring you some camellias. Your favourite red flower.”
Setsuka: “Will you put them on my grave?” She answered herself innocently. “But the Sakura will eat my body, so it’s no good.”
Setsuka laughed.
Setsuka: “Each successive Sakurazukamori will sleep beneath the cherry blossoms, and are eaten by the cherry blossoms. If you bring a camellia here, the Sakura will get angry.”
Seishirou: “Do you like camellias more than cherry blossoms?”
Setsuka suddenly smiled, with a mature expression.
(the word here is “otona” which means “adult”/mature to contrast against the earlier description of “shojo”/young girl or maiden.)
Setsuka: “The Sakura is me.”
Setsuka leaned on Seishirou while holding a camellia in her hand.
Setsuka: “Look, the camellia smells nice…”
Seishirou takes Setsuka’s finger holding the camellia, and brings it to his lips.
Seishirou: “I smell blood.”
Setsuka: “Whose blood is this? I’ve killed so many people, I don’t even know whose blood is it anymore.”
Setsuka took Seishirou’s finger and bit hard.
Seishirou: “uh…!!”
Setsuka: “Seishirou’s fingers are delicious.” Setsuka smiled seductively. “Does it hurt where I bit you?”
Seishirou: “....No.”
Setsuka: “The smell of Seishirou’s blood…. I love it.”
Setsuka traced Seishirou’s lips.
Setsuka: “Kiss me.”
Seishirou silently kissed Setsuka.
“I love you… Seishirou.” Setsuka said in a whisper. “Very soon… I’m going to be killed by you.”
Seishirou Monologue
I killed her just like my mother said. I was fifteen. It was a snow day, under the camellia tree she said she loved. The white snow was stained red by the camellias and her red blood.
My mother died happily in my arms. Even as she grew cold, she was smiling. Her smile was as girlish as ever. It was beautiful.
After killing my mother, I became the Sakurazukamori. Even after killing that person, I didn’t feel anything in particular. It’s the same now. I don’t feel anything.
I’ve never been able to distinguish between “people” and “things”. Killing someone and breaking a glass cup are the same to me. Corpses and the broken remains of things are all the same.
Although I started the Bet with a time limit of just one year, in the end it didn’t bring about any change within me. A boy who had unknowingly become a participant in a “gamble”.
Today was the first time we met in a while. Though he had grown up, his eyes were as clear as ever.
People don’t change easily.
Myself, and also, Subaru-kun too.
Will he kill me for his sister, who was killed by me?
And so, I…..you.
Note:
Setsuka says "Sakura is me" as opposed to "I am the Sakura." I've kept some of the grammar weirdness because I think its important since it denotes the hierarchy, suggesting that each successor/current Sakurazukamori is a physical manifest of the Sakura's will. It could also be Setsuka being Setsuka (insane), hard to tell really.
One of the most fascinating things is that Seishirou uses ‘boku’ throughout, even in his monologue when he’s reflecting back. At the time of X/this drama CD, he's around 35-36. I think this is done on purpose, much like the way his mother is always referred to as ‘shojo’ (girlish young maiden), so Seishirou is always at the age of ‘boku’ -- which is a pronoun used mainly by young boys or even tomboyish girls, before the age of adulthood/20. It really drives the point about what Ohkawa-sensei said about Seishirou being ‘childish’-- !
The final part where he goes "And so, I.....you" is the same as the words he says on Rainbow Bridge, okay we can all go cry together now T__T