I'll come again.
Where's Keizo? He's so late.
Did he answer the telegram?
Not a word.
But he lives the closest of all.
Father.
You too.
Father, I don't like her condition.
What do you mean?
I mean it's dangerous.
It's not a good sign
that she's still in a coma.
Did the trip to Tokyo cause this?
I don't think so.
She was so lively in Tokyo.
Wasn't she?
- It might have been one of the causes.
- What is it, then?
She may not live till tomorrow.
Tomorrow?
Probably happen around daybreak.
So.
She's not going to live.
Mother's around 68, isn't she?
So.
She's not going to live.
I don't think so.
So.
This is the end.
That's all.
Then Keizo won't be in time, will he?
Isn't life too short, though?
She was so lively.
She must've had a feeling
this would happen soon.
Yes, perhaps.
Still, I'm glad she came to Tokyo.
We were able to see her alive.
We talked about many things.
Did you bring mourning clothes?
You should have brought some.
And you, Kyoko?
I don't have any either.
You'll have to borrow some.
Borrow some for Noriko too.
She died peacefully,
without suffering, and full of years.
Isn't that Keizo?
How is she?
I wasn't in time.
I was afraid of that.
I was out of town
on offiicial business.
I'm sory I'm late.
The telegram came while I was away.
This is a terrible thing.
When was it?
This morning at 3:15.
If I had taken the 8:40 train,
I would've been in time.
Keizo, look at her.
See how peaceful she is.
Forgive my delay.
Where is Father?
Where, I wonder.
Keizo has just come, Father.
It was such a beautiful dawn.
I'm afraid we'll have
another hot day today.
What's the matter?
I can't stand that sound.
What do you mean?
As I hear it, I feel as if Mother
were becoming smaller, bit by bit.
I wasn't a vey good son.
It's time we started offering incense.
I can't lose her now.
No one can serve his parents
beyond the grave.
We once saw fiireworks from here,
didn't we?
Oh, did we?
On the night of the town festival.
Remember?
No, I don't.
You were so excited,
but after sundown you fell asleep.
With your head on Mother's lap.
I don't remember.
What were you doing in those days?
Head of the city's
board of education, I believe.
A long time ago, wasn't it?
Once we went to Omishima
during the spring holidays.
That I remember.
Mama got seasick.
Yes, I remember that too.
She was so full of life then.
How old was she then?
Forty-two or 43, I believe.
Take good care of yourself, Father,
and live long.
Thank you.
It may sound heartless to say so,
but I rather wish he had died fiirst.
If Kyoko marries,
he'll be left all alone.
I guess so.
We could have looked
after Mother in Tokyo.
Kyoko, did Mother
still have her gray summer sash?
I'd like it for a keepsake.
Is that all right with you?
And that linen kimono
she used to wear in summer?
I want that too.
You know where it is?
Can you get it out?
It's all over now.
You've been kind to come
and give your time
so we could mourn her.
Thank you.
She would have been pleased
to know Koichi looked after her.
I didn't do anything.
I remember when we had gone
to Atami from Tokyo.
She had felt dizzy once.
It didn't seem that serious.
Why didn't you tell us?
Or at least Koichi?
I guess I should have.
But that wasn't the cause.
She was overweight,
so the illness came on suddenly.
It's just like a dream.
When are you leaving?
I can't stay long.
Me neither.
How about the night express?
What about you, Keizo?
I can stay.
- So we'll leave tonight?
- Yes.
Noriko, you'll stay with Father
a bit longer, won't you?
You could leave with them.
I might as well go.
I have to make a report.
And there's that baseball match, too.
That busy?
Well, thanks for coming.
You'll be lonely now.
I'll get used to it.
A bit more rice.
Get the train tickets for us, will you?
Rice for me, too.
Can we get seats?
Papa, don't drink too much, please.
Don't you wory.
So, you'll all be going