The Tatami Galaxy Chapter 1

In the two years before the spring of my junior year of college, I accomplished not a single thing of practical use. Instead of building healthy relationships with the opposite s.e.x, studying diligently, training my body, and undertaking other activities directed towards becoming a productive member of society, I isolated myself from women, abandoned my studies, and let my health fall to ruin. Yet, despite having struck out already, why is it that I continued to labor away hoping for the pieces to fall into place?

I must inquire of the responsible party. Where is the culprit?

It is not that I have always been in this condition.

I was born pure as the driven snow and as charming as the infant Prince Genji; with nary an impure thought in my head, my radiant smile spread the light of love across the hills and valleys of my hometown. I am doubtful whether that is still the case today. Each time that I look in a mirror I fly into a rage, asking 'Why have you become like this? Is this the sum of your current existence?'

There are those who say that I am still young, and that people are things that may yet change.

How ridiculous.

It is said that the child is the father of the man. And with this year, another one will be added to my twenty, and the end of my splendid quarter-century youth will soon approach. What outcome, then, would further clumsy efforts to change my personality bring about? At this stage, if I attempt to twist something that has already set and hardened, the most I'll do is break it.

At this moment, I must pull myself upward into leading a respectable life. I must not avert my eyes from the grim reality that lies before me.

And yet, somehow, it is unbearable to look.

Since it is said that those who interfere with the romance of others are fated to be trampled to death by horses, I stayed far away from the lonely stables at the north end of campus. If I were ever to approach the horse-riding grounds I would certainly be attacked by a band of rampaging horses, which would jump the fences and trample me until the leftover sc.r.a.ps of my flesh would no longer be fit even for sukiyaki. For the same reason, I was deathly afraid of the Kyoto mounted police corps.

Allow me to explain why I was so afraid of horses. I was once notorious for being the Destroyer of Love. A Black Cupid dressed in the robes of a reaper, I traded my bow and arrows for a scythe, hacking apart the red threads of fate with laser accuracy. Countless tears were shed by young lovebirds as a result of my exploits.

This was certainly the height of depravity; of that much, at least, I am aware.

It's possible that prior to entering university, I had trembled slightly with excitement at the possibility of rosy a.s.sociations with members of the opposite s.e.x. During the first few months of my college career, such things were hardly a stretch of the imagination, but nevertheless I earnestly pledged to myself that I would not become a beast, but would instead go forth, gently and politely courting beautiful maidens. At any rate, I thought myself prepared to overlook men and women throwing away reason to engage in experimental natural philosophy.

Before I knew it though, I had lost all composure and transformed into a scoundrel, feeling nothing but joy at the sound of those fateful red threads snapping. It wasn't long before I came to inhabit back alleys of broken love, where the sc.r.a.ps of those strings floated in puddles of bitter tears, and the one who was responsible for leading me down those pathways of desperation was a despicable man who was both my sworn enemy and closest friend.

Ozu is a student the same year as I. Though he is a member of the electrical engineering department, he hates electricity, electronics and engineering. His first-year grades were so borderline that I wondered if there was any point to him being in university at all. He, however, wasn't concerned in the slightest.

Because he despises vegetables and adheres strictly to a diet of fast food, he has the extremely eerie look and complexion of someone from the far side of the moon. If you were to meet him the street late at night eight out of ten people would mistake him for a youkai. The remaining two people are certainly youkai themselves.

Cruelly beating the weak, groveling to the strong, selfish, self-a.s.sured, lazy, a complete demon, neglecting studies, lacking a shred of pride, feeding off the unhappiness of others he was able to eat three square meals a day. There is not a single part of him that is praiseworthy. If I had never met him my soul surely would have been cleaner for it.

Keeping that in mind, setting foot into the Misogi Movie Circle in the spring of my freshman year was most a.s.suredly a mistake.

At the time, I was still a sparkling freshman. The cherry trees had shed their flowers, clad now in an invigorating verdant hue. Upon entering the university grounds, each first-year was immediately pressed with club fliers, I with so many that they could not be processed by a single person. Among those sundry fliers, only four caught my attention: Misogi Movie Circle, a mysterious call for disciples, Honwaka Softball Circle, and the Lucky Cat Restaurant secret society. Each of these had its own air of suspicion, yet was its own doorway to a yet unknown campus life, and I was filled with inquisitiveness, thinking that no matter which I chose a fascinating future lay ahead. The only reason I thought this was because I was a hopeless fool.

After lectures, I directed my steps towards the university clock tower. It seemed that many circles were holding new member information sessions in that vicinity.

Around the base of the clock tower milled throngs of freshmen, their faces still blushing with springs of hope, as well as crafty circle members, eager to prey on those same hopes. Thinking that among these countless circles lay an entrance to the phantasmic illusion of the entrance to a rosy student life, I wandered around in a lightheaded daze.

The first thing I noticed was a group of students holding a billboard displaying "Misogi Movie Circle". It looked like they were screening a movie as a way of welcoming potential new recruits. In hindsight, I should not have continued beyond that point. My decision to join the club that day must be attributed to the fact that I was deluded by honey-laced slogans like "Let's Have Fun Making Movies" into holding unreasonable expectations. In my excitement at the prospect of a rosy future making a hundred friends I forget myself, and from that day on I embarked upon the path of a beast, acquiring not friends, but countless enemies.

Upon entering Misogi, I was completely unable to integrate into the irritatingly congenial atmosphere. I told myself over and over that this was merely a trial I needed to overcome, that by entering this abnormally cheerful group, I would attain a rosy student life, beautiful raven-haired maidens, and eventually the entire world. But in the end, my hopes were crushed.

Backed into a dark corner, I suddenly noticed a face of ill portent appear beside me. I thought it was an evil spirit that only someone of my delicate nature could see.

That was the first meeting between Ozu and me.

After that fateful encounter, the next two years flew by. It was the end of my third May in university. I sat in my beloved 4½-tatami room, glaring at the despicable Ozu.

I lived in a boarding house called Shimogamo Yūsuisō, which is located in Shimogamo Izumigawa. I had heard that the place had burned down in the chaos at the end of the Tokugawa shogunate, was rebuilt in exactly the same fashion, and had not been renovated since. If it hadn't been for the light leaking out of the windows, one could be forgiven for mistaking it for an abandoned ruin. When I first visited this place during the co-op a.s.sociation tour after orientation I thought I had wandered into Kowloon Walled City. Just looking at its crumbling wooden frame was enough to induce anxiety, and it was probably sufficiently dilapidated that it could be placed on the list of j.a.pan's Important Cultural Properties. Yet if it were to burn down I doubt that anyone would even bat an eye. Even the landlord who lives to the east would most certainly be relieved.

That particular night, Ozu had come to my residence for a visit. The two of us gloomily gulped down sake.

"Gimme something to eat!" Ozu demanded. I broke out my hot plate and grilled some fish burgers, but Ozu devoured his in one bite and then proceeded to make even more extravagant requests: "You got any real meat? I could go for beef tongue with leeks right now." In a rage I shoved a sizzling hot fish burger into his mouth, but after seeing great teardrops roll silently down his cheeks I was obliged to forgive him.

At the start of the month, after two years of relentlessly ruining every relationship we came across in Misogi, we had finally withdrawn from the circle. Though it is considered good manners to clean up after yourself, Ozu and I combined our efforts in order to leave behind a mess muddier than the waters of the Yellow River.

I continued my a.s.sociation with Ozu, but even after we left the circle he seemed to keep himself busy with all sorts of schemes. He seemed to have a hand in the sports circles and even in the activities of the secret society. The real reason he came to my room that night was because he was also visiting a certain resident of the Shimogamo Yūsuisō on the second floor. Ozu called that person "Master", and had been coming and going from that residence since our first year. The reason that this miserable relationship between Ozu and I hadn't already been severed was not only because we were always pushed into the same dark corners of the circles we joined, but also because he was always visiting my boarding house. Even when I inquired as to the nature of this Master, Ozu simply put on a loathsome, obscene grin and refused to answer. I came to the conclusion that he was some sort of Master of s.m.u.t.

Misogi and I had already completely broken off relations, but Ozu, who seemed to have ears everywhere, constantly wafted fresh gossip my way. We had thrown away what little honor we had left for the sake of our little revolution. But according to Ozu, our protests, which we had risked life and limb for, had brought no change to the circle.

With a little help from the alcohol, I became predictably belligerent. Since I had been banished from the circle, my life had fallen into a mundane cycle of commuting back and forth to campus Now, though, I felt a vindictive zeal stirring again within me. Fanning flames was something that Ozu was unconscionably good at.

"Say, still feel like doing that thing we talked about?," he asked, his body undulating like a sea cuc.u.mber.

"Yeah..."

"Then it's decided! I'll get everything ready and be there at dusk tomorrow."

Looking exceptionally pleased, he left to return to whatever hole he came from.

I felt like I'd been had.

I tried to fall asleep, but the Chinese exchange students on the second floor were having a raucous get-together, which made sleep quite a difficult prospect. Feeling slight pangs of hunger, I decided to take a trip to Neko Ramen. Rising from my futon, I left my room to wander the darkened streets.

Purely by chance, that night I met the G.o.d who lived on the second floor of Shimogamo Yūsuisō.

Neko Ramen is a fabled ramen stand which is rumored to make its broth out of cats, but whether that is true or not the taste is unparalleled. It is not my place to disclose the location where it makes its frequent appearances, so I shall not put the details into writing here. However I will say that it can be found in the area around Shimogamo Shrine.

I trembled as I slurped up the ramen, wavering between ecstasy and terror at the incomparable taste. Another customer came in and seated himself beside me. I glanced at him and was immediately taken aback by his very odd appearance. Dressed in a dark blue yukata and tengu geta, he strangely resembled an ascetic hermit. Looking askance at him from my bowl, I seemed to recall seeing this fellow many times in Shimogamo Yūsuisō: a figure retreating up the creaking staircase; a profile out in the sunshine below the clotheslines getting his haircut by some female exchange student; a silhouette at the communal sinks washing some mysterious fruit. The hair on top of his eggplant-shaped head was as disheveled as if a typhoon had just blown through, and there was an easygoing look in his eyes. It was difficult to tell how old he was; he resembled a middle-aged man, and yet he may just as well have been a university student. Of course, I didn't even imagine that he could be a G.o.d.

He and the shopkeeper exchanged pleasantries like they were old friends. Once he turned to his noodles, though, he slurped the entire bowl up with the force of Niagara Falls flowing in reverse. He drained his bowl of broth before I had finished eating; it was practically a superhuman feat. Once he had finished, he turned to scrutinize me carefully. After a while he spoke, with a peculiarly old-fashioned elocution.

"You are a resident of Shimogamo Yūsuisō, are you not?"

Seeing me nod, he smiled, looking quite satisfied.

"I am also a resident there. A pleasure."

"Likewise," I replied, and on that note I was quite prepared to end the conversation. However he continued to stare boldly at me and nodded knowingly, muttering, "I see, so you are the one." Though I was still feeling the effects of my previous alcoholic indiscretions, I nevertheless felt wary of this overly familiar fellow. For a moment I considered whether he might not be the long-lost brother I was separated from ten years ago, but that was impossible seeing as I had no brother to separate from in the first place.

Finishing my ramen, I stood up to leave, but the man stood up as well, and fell into step beside me without missing a beat. Producing a cigar, he lit up and proceeded to puff out smoke. Though I attempted to quicken my pace, he managed to stay right beside me without seeming to exert himself in the slightest. One might have thought him to be a wizard. What a nuisance, I thought, when suddenly he spoke again.

"They say time flies like an arrow, but it is a most vexing thing how the seasons come around one after another. I haven't the slightest idea how much time has pa.s.sed since the creation of the heavens and earth, but from the looks of it it doesn't seem to have been very long at all. For so many humans to have been born in such a trifling amount of time is quite amazing. And they spend each day laboring away; industrious creatures, aren't they? It's quite splendid, and I must say that I am quite fond of them. But no matter how endearing they are, there are so many of them that it simply isn't possible to commiserate with them all.

"Once fall comes, we must again go to Izumo, and don't make light of the train fare. In the past we pored over every matter quite carefully, and even spent entire nights having great arguments and disputes over singular issues, but these days we don't have that kind of leisurely time to spend. Now we simply toss everything into the 'Resolved' box without even looking; it's quite a wretched state of affairs. No matter how we rack our brains to put these relationships together, clueless men let opportunities slip out from under their noses, so that the women that they should have had in their grasp become entwined with other men. So you see, it's worthless to even pray for some backbone; you might as well try to empty the water from Lake Biwa with a ladle.

"Except for the tenth month, Kannazuki, we labor drawing up all these schemes every day. There are those that do it with a gla.s.s of wine in one hand while picking at their noses with the other, using lots to decide everything, but I am far too earnest to decide the fates of these poor creatures like that. Against my better judgment I get drawn into their lives; I look at each one carefully, worrying about them as if they were myself. Sometimes I tear my hair out struggling to draw up an appropriate encounter. It's almost like marriage counseling in a way. Is this what a G.o.d should be doing? That is why I smoke too much, my hair has become thin, and why I gorge myself on castellas. I have to eat herbal medicine for my indigestion, I suffer from insomnia and wake before dawn every day, and my jaw hurts on account of my stress. The doctor says that I should take things easy, but is carrying the fate of so many humans something to be taken so lightly?

"The other G.o.ds certainly aren't so serious, taking 20,000 league cruises on grand sailing ships, all the while carelessly gulping down champagne in the company of bunny girls. They make fun of me, saying things like 'That guy is hopeless. No matter how much we reason with him he won't let loosen up', and so forth. I can see through the act, you fools! What a disgraceful lot. Why is it that year after year I am the only one to undertake this business of connecting these threads of fate? Surely I can be forgiven for wondering why I continue to walk this path.

"Don't you think so?"

What was this odd person babbling on about?

"Who are you?" I inquired, stopping on Mikage Street just east of where it meets Shimogamo Boulevard.

Across from us, the darkened Tadasu Forest rustled around the long, deserted road to Shimogamo Shrine stretching to the north. On the distant shrine grounds the orange glow of paper lanterns burned faintly.

"A G.o.d, my good fellow. I am a G.o.d," he said nonchalantly, pointing at me. "My name is Kamotaketsunuminokami."

"C-come again?"

"Kamotaketsunomimokamo...Kamotaketsunuminokami, that is. Don't make me say it again, I'll bite my tongue." He pointed towards the murky shrine road.

"Didn't you know? And to think that you live right near Shimogamo Shrine."

I had visited the shrine before, but this was the first I had heard of this G.o.d's existence. Kyoto abounds with venerated ancient shrines, but among them Shimogamo stands out as one of the foremost, even being designated as a World Heritage site. It was too much of a stretch to imagine that this man could be the G.o.d of such a prominent shrine; at best he might be an immortal hermit, at worst a G.o.d of poverty. There was no way he could be the vessel of a G.o.d of Shimogamo Shrine.

"You don't believe me, do you?" he sighed.

I nodded.

"Disappointing, disappointing indeed," he said, not seeming disappointed in the slightest. The night breeze carried the sweet scent of his cigar toward me. Across the avenue, the eerie murmurs of the forest were making me uneasy. While he was turned away tending to his cigar, I began to walk away, hoping to make my escape quickly. No good could come from a.s.sociating with this mysterious fellow.

"Just wait a moment now," he called out to me. "I know everything about you. Your parents' names, the sour smells you always produced as a baby, your nickname in elementary school, the cultural festival in middle school, your fleeting first love in high school...of course that too ended in failure. The excitement, or rather, the shock you experienced from watching your first adult video, your wanderings as a ronin after failing your first round of entrance exams, your days of sloth and vice after entering university..."

"You can't be serious..."

"I know everything," he nodded confidently. "For instance, I know how your attempt to expose the contemptuous behavior of a man named Jōgasaki by screening a guerrilla film during a film festival ended with you 'voluntarily' exiling yourself from the film circle. And the reason you have spent the last two years in such a timid state..."

"Th-that's because Ozu - " I involuntarily blurted out, but the man raised a hand to stop me.

"I accept that your soul has been tainted under the influence of Ozu. However, that's not all, is it?"

The mortifying events of the past two years suddenly went whirling through my head like images on a revolving paper lantern. Here in the sacred grove of Shimogamo Shrine of all places, my heart was seized so painfully by all these th.o.r.n.y memories I wanted to scream. Despite this I managed to restrain myself like a proper gentleman. The self-styled Kamotaketsunuminokami gazed upon me with mirth as I writhed in inner turmoil.

"...this is none of your business," I growled.

He shook his head upon hearing my words.

"Take a look at this."

From within the folds of his yukata, he produced a dirty sheaf of papers and shuffled towards the fluorescent light of a nearby information board, beckoning me to approach. I walked towards him like a moth drawn to a flame.

Each time he flipped through the ledger he had produced, a hundred years' worth of dust flew into the air, and here and there the pages were worm-eaten through and through. The man licked his fingers for traction as he turned the pages, no doubt ingesting a fair amount of dust as well.

"Here it is."

The place he was pointing to was near the end of the book. On the grimy grey page brushstrokes spelled out a woman's name, my name, and Ozu's name. The lettering was so terribly ostentatious it was as if whoever wrote it imagined himself some sort of powerful G.o.d.

"When autumn comes, we gather at Izumo to match couples together. Surely you've heard of this. I am tasked with hundreds of these issues, among which is this particular case. You understand what I mean, don't you?"

"I haven't the slightest."

"Really now, you're even more stupid than I thought you were. To summarize then, I am planning to match this woman you know, Akashi, with someone," the G.o.d said."In other words, it is a contest between you and Ozu."

The Tadasu Forest rumbled and swayed with black gusts of wind.

The next day I sat up in my musty bed just past noon. Recalling my idiotic actions of the previous night, my face turned a modest shade of red.

Last night at the Neko Ramen cart a G.o.d of Shimogamo Shrine who lived on the second floor of my boarding house had turned up, claiming that he was planning to match Akashi and me together. Surely I was letting my convenient fantasies get out of hand. Allowing loneliness to loosen the bands around one's heart and overindulging in daydreams is shameless and certainly unbecoming of a gentleman.

Nevertheless, the previous night's meeting with that G.o.d did not seem remarkable in the least. He hadn't performed any miracles, nor were there any sudden crashes of lightning. There were no fox or bird familiars there to show him deference. It was nothing more than an ordinary case of a G.o.d showing up to a ramen stand and sitting down beside you. Somehow the lack of spectacle made it seem all the more convincing, but that still wasn't enough to prove anything.

Ascertaining the truth would surely be simple; all I would need to do is ascend to the second floor and meet with this so-called G.o.d face to face. But if the door opened and the G.o.d from last night appeared and asked politely who I was, I wouldn't know how to respond. Or if he said "Yah, I got you good!", I wouldn't be able to look him in the eye. After that, the rest of my life would surely become a miserable downward spiral of self-loathing.

"Come visit me when you've made up your mind. Second floor, end of the hall. But I want a reply within three days; after all, I'm a busy fellow, " he had said.

After having done nothing but commute back and forth between the boarding house and campus for the past two years, allowing myself to be thrown into confusion by these delusions felt like a stain on my honor. Chanting Buddhist mantras ceaselessly, I fought to keep these flights of fancy from carrying me away like a balloon rising into the May sky.

Speaking of which, that self-styled G.o.d had said that he was going to Izumo to tie knots between couples with the red threads of fate. That couldn't possibly be true, could it?

From my bookshelf I fished out an encyclopedia.

Kannazuki, also known as the tenth lunar month, is the time of year when the myriad G.o.ds gather at Izumo, leaving the other prefectures of j.a.pan unattended. This is common knowledge, even for someone like myself.

Without going into too much detail about the exact breakdown, there are roughly eight million G.o.ds, which equals about one-fifteenth of the current population of j.a.pan. Among that number, there are certainly going to be a few odd ones in the group, just like how even prestigious universities have their share of idiots wriggling about.

The thing I had been wondering was what exactly the G.o.ds discussed at their gathering in Izumo. I imagined that it was things like strategies to counteract global warming, or the globalization of the economy. For all the G.o.ds from every corner of the country to gather and spend an entire month in discussion, this must undoubtedly be an ill.u.s.trious conclave, embroiling the G.o.ds in heated debates concerning matters of great import. It is unthinkable that it would involve getting together with friends and having unsavory conversations over hotpot. Wouldn't that just be the same as a bunch of moronic college students?

That day in the boarding house, as I peered at my encyclopedia, a truly dreadful reality presented itself before my eyes.

The textbook detailed the heated matchmaking process the G.o.ds at Izumo used to link men and women together. It turns out the sole purpose of the a.s.sembly in Izumo was to tangle the red threads of fate. It looked like that shady G.o.d at the ramen cart was speaking the truth.

I shook with blasphemous rage.

Did they really have nothing better to do?

To get my mind off these things I threw myself into my studies. However, while glaring at my textbooks, I began to feel that doing this was nothing more than a greedy effort to recover the last two fruitless years of my life. This unseemly conduct was a repudiation of my personal ideals, and acting in accordance with my principles I gallantly put my books away. This was perhaps the most gentlemanly thing to do.

Now that it had come to this, I had no recourse but to turn to Ozu to provide me with the report that I needed to turn in. The Secret Society had a print shop wherein one could order and acquire counterfeit a.s.signments. I had relied on their services for so long that without Ozu to serve as an intermediary to get me what I needed from the print shop, I would be in very dire straits. I was worn out, both physically and mentally. My inability to extricate myself from Ozu was also in part due to this illicit connection.

Though May had not yet ended, it was so humid that it already felt like summer. The window was thrown open so wide that I invited accusations of indecent exposure, yet the air inside remained stagnant. In this musty s.p.a.ce, mysterious substances commingled and fermented, and like amber-colored whisky from the barrels at Yamazaki Distillery would surely intoxicate anyone who entered this 4½-tatami s.p.a.ce even for a moment. Upon opening the door that led out into the corridor, the kittens that wandered the boarding house tiptoed into the room, mewing boldly. They were so cute that I almost wanted to eat them up, but I would not stoop so low as to do such a savage thing as that. Even if I were to be clad in only a pair of underpants, I must always act befitting a gentleman. After rubbing the sleep out of their eyes, I promptly chased them out.

Closing the door, I flopped down like a log. I tried to get lost in more licentious daydreams, but that didn't go well. I tried to think of ways to seize the rosy future of my dreams, but that didn't go well either. Getting irritated at this, that, and everything else, the only thing that seemed to be going well was the worsening of my headache. I took my frustrations out on the c.o.c.kroaches that scurried through every corner of my room, smashing the unlucky ones to smithereens.

Since I had gotten up so late, the day was swiftly turning to dusk. The rays of the setting sun pierced my window, further worsening my mood. I wanted to be like the brooding Yoshimune like on the old TV show, riding a magnificent white steed along the sh.o.r.eline under the golden sunlight. Unfortunately I, the Destroyer of Love, was afraid of horses.

Tormented by these unwanted, vacillating thoughts, my mind turned to the approaching rendezvous with Ozu. Dwelling on my frustrations seemed like a waste of time. Did I really believe if I continued with this m.a.s.o.c.h.i.s.tic internal battle that someday the Buddha would pull up this dangling spider's thread and pat me on the head like in the legends of old? In the end, the spider's thread might snap, plunging me back into a 4½-tatami h.e.l.l, my plight nothing more than entertainment for the Buddha.

At five in the afternoon, the only result of these giddy and m.a.s.o.c.h.i.s.tic delusions was that Ozu came to find me sulking.

"Ill-tempered as ever, I see," were his first words to me.

"I could say the same about you," I snapped in return.

Ozu's face was as grimy as the boarding house's communal restroom, though I couldn't be sure if the faint smell of ammonia coming off him was just a figment of my imagination. We stared at each other, two twenty-something miscreants under the sweltering setting sun. Negativity only breeds more negativity, and it only goes downhill from there. I was already fed up with it.

"Are the preparations complete?" I asked.

In reply, Ozu just shook the plastic bag he was carrying, shifting the venomously red, green, and blue tubes inside.

"Well, there's nothing for it. Let's go", I said.

Ozu and I left the Kowloon-esque Shimogamo Yūsuisō and went out into the deserted streets. Proceeding down Mikage Street, we pa.s.sed the road to Shimogamo Shrine and came to Shimogamo Boulevard. Crossing the boulevard at the Kyoto Family Court, the Aoi Bridge across the Kamo River came into view. The glorious evening view of the crystal clear waters of the flowing river was wasted on the two shockingly sinister looking youths standing on the bridge. Folding our arms, we gazed downstream. There were beautiful sunbathed leaves budding on both sides of the river beneath the gradually darkening sky. Further down the river, a steady stream of buses and cars could be seen crossing the Great Kamo Bridge. Even from this far away we could faintly make out college students frolicking on the riverside. Soon, that playground would become a h.e.l.l of agonized screams.

"We really are doing this, aren't we?" I commented.

"Didn't you say yesterday that you were prepared to unleash divine judgement?" said Ozu.

"Of course, from our perspective it's divine wrath. To everyone else, this seems like a stupid prank."

Ozu laughed scornfully.

"So you're going to worry about what they think and turn your back on your own convictions? That doesn't sound like the man I pledged my body and soul to."

"Shut up."

The only reason he verbalized such sickening a.s.sertions was to push my b.u.t.tons and stir up a delightful argument for him to partake in. Seeing other people argue pointlessly was this troll's favorite form of entertainment, his raison d'etre.

Despite outwardly scorning his idiocy, I stayed faithful to my own convictions and took the initiative. "Alright, time to do this. Let's go," I declared.

We crossed over to the west bank of the Kamogawa River and headed downstream. Where Takano River from the northeast and Kamogawa River from the northwest meet, they become the Kamo River. Students call the upside-down triangle at the confluence of the two rivers the Kamo Delta. From spring to early summer, the location is often used to hold welcoming parties for incoming freshmen.

As we approached the Kamo Delta, many laughing, chattering people seated on spread-out blue sheets came into view. Becoming even more cautious, we hid ourselves in the darkness under the Demachi Bridge. If we were spotted by the cavorting members of the enemy camp, as in the ancient Battle of Ichinotani, our audacious surprise attack would come to naught.

I took out the fireworks from the plastic bag and laid them out on the ground while Ozu produced the Carl Zeiss monocular he had borrowed from me and surveyed the opposite sh.o.r.e.

I lit up a cigarette, the fumes quickly dispersing in the brisk evening breeze. A father walking with his children on the bridge gave us a suspicious glance as he pa.s.sed. However this was no time for us to worry about pa.s.sersby. We were obligated to follow through with our convictions.

"How does it look?" I asked.

"Everyone from our year is there, huehuehue. But I don't see Aijima or Jōgasaki."

"Why would those drunkards ever be late to a party? What's wrong with them?" I huffed. "Without those two there's no point in a surprise attack."

"Ah, there's Akashi."

Akashi was a girl in the grade below ours. I suddenly remembered what had been written in that shady G.o.d's ledger last night.

"Akashi came too?" I asked.

"Look, she's sitting on that embankment up there drinking a beer. She's hanging out by herself, like she usually does."

"Brilliant. But she would have been better off not coming to such a stupid party."

"I almost feel bad about getting her involved in all this."

Briefly, images of Akashi's intellectual appearance and elegant mannerisms ran through my head.

"Aha! " Ozu sounded exceptionally pleased. "Aijima's here."

s.n.a.t.c.hing the spygla.s.s from him, I traced Aijima as he walked through the pine trees and down the embankment, watching as the new students waiting on the beach greeted him with cheers.

Aijima was Jōgasaki's right-hand man in the Misogi movie circle, and was one of our chief tormentors. Having to listen to him nitpick every tiny flaw in our movies was one thing, but being denied spots at film festivals by his schedule manipulations was another. We had to beg on our hands and knees just to use the editing equipment. He was unforgivable. Why must we endure this humiliation here, while he is celebrated and admired on the opposite bank? Today, I would bring down the hammer of justice, and avenge myself for many years of injustice. I would not be content until I saw him, wailing and repenting his sins among the crabs on the beach as fireworks rained down upon him from the heavens.

Like a starving beast my breath became ragged and heavy with antic.i.p.ation. I picked up a firecracker, but Ozu grabbed my hand.

"Not yet, Jōgasaki hasn't arrived yet."

"I don't care anymore. Aijima's death will be sufficient."

"I understand how you feel, but our real target is Jōgasaki."

Our argument continued for a while. Ozu's motives may have been impure, but he had a point. Expending all our efforts on attacking Aijima, a mere lackey, would be a complete waste of our efforts. For the interim I decided to sheathe my sword.

To our frustration, despite how long we waited Jōgasaki never arrived. While the wind whistled, our souls were deeply wounded. Joyous laughter resounded from the direction of the beer-swilling enemy camp. On the other hand, the two of us simply squatted motionlessly while joggers and people walking their dogs gave us odd looks.

Seeing the stark contrast between our situation and the enemy's on the other bank added oil to the flames of my discontent. If there had been a raven-haired maiden by my side, I would have been able to wait it out, even huddled in the darkness. However, the person beside me was Ozu. Why was I forced to huddle with someone like an old-time grifter while a harmonious party was unfolding on the other bank? Where had I gone wrong? Was the fault within myself? At the very least I should be allowed a kindred soul to keep me company, if not a raven-haired maiden.

"Sure is cold over here," Ozu remarked.

"Shut up."

"Gosh, that looks like a fun party."

"Whose side are you on?"

"This is pointless, let's just head over there. I want to drink with all those naïve-looking freshmen."

"Are you planning to betray me?"

"I never promised you anything, did I?"

"You just said a while ago that you pledged me your body and soul, did you not?"

"Did I say that? I must have forgotten."

"You miserable- "

"Don't look at me like that, you're scaring me!"

"Oi, get off me!"

"But I'm lonely, and this wind is making me cold."

"You lonely b.a.s.t.a.r.d-"

"Kyaa!"

After a while, this imitation of a lover's quarrel began to wear our patience thin. Though Jōgasaki was still nowhere to be seen, things had dragged on for long enough. We could send him a cake sprinkled with bug corpses later, but tonight we would have to be content with leaving a stain on his honor.

As evening fell we carried the fireworks to the sh.o.r.e. Ozu waded into the river and filled a bucket with water.

Skyrockets are things to be launched towards the sky. They are absolutely not to be held in the hands, launched towards people, or used to bombard people on the other side of a river having a peaceful welcoming party for freshmen. That can be extremely dangerous. I would like you all to avoid following in my footsteps.

Notwithstanding the fact that this was a surprise attack, attacking without warning is just completely against my style. I shouted a challenge to the enemy camp on the other bank.

"Heed us well, etcetera etcetera, we will now exact our revenge! Please be careful of your eyes." Having said my piece, I observed the people on the opposite sh.o.r.e. They were all standing there dumbfounded, mouths agape, with expressions that clearly said "What the h.e.l.l is this?" If they didn't understand, then I would make them understand.

Suddenly, on the top of the embankment the figure of Akashi holding a bottle of beer caught my eye. She mouthed the word "idiot", and then, leaving only her astute critique, hastily retreated behind a pine tree. The remainder of the partygoers sat on their sheets, eyes darting here and there, completely unable to fathom the situation. Now that Akashi had taken refuge, there was no need for me to hold back. I promptly signaled Ozu to begin the bombardment.

After we had been shooting off rockets for a while, we noticed some of the enraged uppercla.s.smen beginning to splash through the river without regard to getting soaked, probably attempting to show off to the freshmen. We had originally planned to beat a gallant retreat to the sounds of screaming from the opposite bank, but now the enraged uppercla.s.smen were crossing the river without regard for getting soaked, throwing us into disarray.

"Hey, it's time to go," I said.

"Wait, wait, we still need to put out the flame."

"Hurry, hurry!"

"We still have some rockets left too."

"Just leave them!"

We made a break for the Demachi Bridge, but from the top of the embankment in front of us, a person came into view, charging towards us with an extraordinarily angry expression on his face.

"You little s.h.i.ts!!" yelled a familiar voice.

"Whoa, Jōgasaki's finally arrived," Ozu yelped.

"What terrible timing."

Letting out a shriek, Ozu turned tail and fled in the opposite direction. Abandoning any sense of self respect, he ran towards the Great Kamo Bridge yelling "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!", nimbly disappearing into the night.

I was nearly nabbed by Jōgasaki, but with the grace of a leopard I slipped from his grasp and ran for my life after Ozu.

"When are you s.h.i.ts gonna grow up?" Jōgasaki stood on the riverbank hurling a sermon after us. He dared lecture me — this pompous, prattling peac.o.c.k! I was so filled with righteous indignation that I nearly turned around to face him, but it was clear that the justice of my cause would be lost on the violent ma.s.ses arrayed against me. I had no intention of subjecting myself to such dishonor, therefore this was not surrender: it was simply a tactical retreat.

Ozu had already made it to the Great Kamo Bridge and was nearly out of sight. How dreadfully fleet of foot. I was about to follow after him when suddenly a hot ma.s.s whooshed into my back, drawing from me a gasp of pain.

From behind me a triumphant roar rose into the air; it appeared that the enemy forces had launched a vengeful rocket at me and struck my retreating form square in the back. The events of the past two years began to whirl through my mind like a revolving paper lantern.

I had spent the two years after I entered university fighting a fruitless war. Though I took pride in the splendid battles I had fought as the Destroyer of Love, I could not help but to shed a tear. It was a thankless, th.o.r.n.y road I traveled.

I shall not enumerate the many events that occurred after my matriculation that caused my brain to turn from a rosy color to a dead shade of bluish-purple. There aren't many tales to tell in the first place, and in secondly, what would come of an attempt to elicit empty sympathy from my readers? In the summer of my freshman year, the unsurpa.s.sably sharp blade called reality fell, and my foolish, short-lived dreams evaporated like morning dew on the campus grounds.

After that, I took a cold, hard look at the world and resolved to crack down on the naïve dreamers around me. More specifically, I decided to ruin the pathway of love for everyone else.

If a maiden in the east falls in love, I tell her "Give up on that freak"; if a man has starstruck delusions in the west I tell him "It's useless, you may as well give up now"; if the fireworks of love bloom in the south I quickly extinguish them; and in the north I tirelessly preach the gospel of celibacy. Due to my efforts I was dubbed "The Tactless One". Alas, nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, I was far more perceptive than anyone realized, but used that information to intentionally sabotage whatever I could.

There was one other person who watched my struggles with glee, who riled me up and laughed as I stirred up the embers of conflict within the circle. That someone was Ozu. The tendrils of his information network reached every nook and cranny, and there was not a rumor he was not aware of. Whenever I threw oil on the fire, he immediately began to craftily spread malicious gossip to fan the flames until every corner of the circle rang with the discord and infighting that he loved so much. He is evil incarnate, a disgrace to the human race, and certainly not one that anyone would ever aspire to emulate.

Misogi had been established fairly recently, but already had about thirty members, which meant thirty more enemies that I had to deal with. There were those who quit the circle due to Ozu and my actions. Once, I was ambushed and nearly drowned in the ca.n.a.ls of Lake Biwa. Another time, I was unable to return to my own home, and had to hide out in an acquaintance's room in North Shirakawa while he was away on a trip. And once I had even been too direct and brought a girl to tears in the middle of Konoe Street.

But I would not — I could not lose.

It goes without saying that if I had lost back then everybody, myself included, would have been much happier. That being said, I didn't give a d.a.m.n whether or not Ozu was happy.

To begin with, I could not stomach the system behind Misogi movie circle.

In Misogi, under Comrade Jōgasaki's benevolent dictatorship, circle members peacefully created movies at his whim, a truly despicable setup. Though at first I dutifully carried out his bidding, I soon came to despise the organization. However, it vexed me to know that fleeing the circle amounted to an admission of defeat. Realizing that it was my duty to light the beacon of rebellion right under the noses of Jōgasaki and his cronies, I began to shoot movies of my own. Of course, with none of the other members sympathetic to my cause, I reluctantly enlisted the Ozu's services.

My first work was a tale of two men who inherited the opposing reins of a legendary prank war predating the Pacific War, and proceeded to push past their mental and physical limits to crush each other's pride: a movie truly overflowing with violence. With Ozu's unchanging Noh mask-like expression, my high-octane performance, and a never ending stream of merciless pranks, it was a film without rival. In the final scene, Ozu, who had dyed his entire body pink, and I, with my head half-shaved, squared off in a battle royale on the Great Kamo Bridge. Surely this scene alone was worth the price of admission. Still, it was no surprise the movie was completely ignored; the only person who laughed during the screening was Akashi.

My second movie was patterned after Shakespeare's King Lear, with one man wavering between the affections of three women. However we could not gloss over the fundamental issue of not having a single woman in our cast, and the finished film ended up deviating wildly from the original plot of King Lear. Furthermore, it portrayed our philandering hero's innermost thoughts with such salacious detail that a storm of vilification was cast at us from the women in the audience, who decried the film as some kind of paean to perversion. Akashi was the only one who laughed at the film.

My third work was a survival movie dealing with a man who embarks on an endless journey to escape an infinite prison of 4½-tatami rooms. However, most of the comments I received went along the lines of "Haven't I seen this setting somewhere before?" and "This isn't even a survival movie!". The only one who had anything positive to say was Akashi.

The more movies that Ozu and I made, the more the other circle members drew away from us, as if they were standing around a campfire and were afraid to get burned. Jōgasaki gradually became cold and indifferent to us, and before long he began to completely ignore us like we were refuse on the side of the road.

The strangest thing is, the more effort we put into dethroning him, the more popular Jōgasaki seemed to become. It's like we were sitting on one end of a seesaw helping push him up, though that realization came too late.

In the end, I simply had not been cunning enough.

How terribly naïve I was.

Having successfully completed our tactical withdrawal from the Kamo River, Ozu and I headed into town to celebrate our victory.

As I rode my bike in the night wind, I felt oddly despondent. Dismounting, we walked morosely through the streets of Kawaramachi. The garish lights of the town sparkled and illuminated the inky blue sky. Ozu suddenly turned towards the west end of the Great Sanjō Bridge and entered an old-fashioned brush shop while I waited outside under the shadow of the eaves. Before long he came out, looking chagrined.

"Well? Did you buy a brush?"

"Well see, I gotta give Master Higuchi a tribute. He said he wants this fantastic kamenoko scrubbing brush that's supposed to be able to scrub away any impurity."

"Is there even such a thing?"

"Supposedly, yeah, but…the shopkeeper laughed me out of the shop. I'll just have to find something else to present to him."

"You sure are going to a lot of effort over something this stupid."

"It's tough since the Master's always asking for stuff. Chirimen Sanshō's sardines and Demachi Futaba's mame mochi I can deal with, but then he goes and asks for things like antique globes and banners from used-book fairs, and seahorses and giant squids. And if I bring him something that displeases him I'll be expelled on the spot. Ain't no rest for the weary."

Despite his words, Ozu seemed oddly cheerful as he strolled with me along Kiyamachi.

Though this was supposedly a tactical retreat, unpleasant feelings of doubt clouded my mind, and I began to wonder whether it had actually been a defeat. Ozu had a devil-may-care look on his face, but I couldn't be so irresponsible. Tonight's sortie at the Kamo Delta had been meant to teach a lesson to the peers that we so thoroughly resented, but now that I could calmly recollect the events of the battle, our enemies seemed to have enjoyed themselves. Although there are many entertaining fights at drinking parties, ours was for a cause loftier than the heights of Mt. Eizan.

"Keeheehee," Ozu suddenly snickered. "Jōgasaki put on a good show tonight for everyone, but things aren't looking rosy for him right now."

"Is that so?" I asked.

Ozu gave me a smug look.

"Even as a doctoral student, he devotes all his time to shooting movies and doesn't study at all, so he can't even conduct a single lab experiment or test. His parents decreased his allowance, and just recently he argued with his boss and quit his job. Also, just last month he broke up with the girl he stole from Aijima. He's hardly in a position to be lecturing anyone."

"How exactly do you know all this, anyway?"

As we pa.s.sed beneath a streetlight, his expression turned sly.

"Don't forget, I have eyes and ears everywhere. I know more about you than even your lover does."

"I don't have a lover."

"Well, I'm just covering my bases. Our real problem is Aijima," he said, frowning.

"What do you mean?"

Ozu smirked. "You don't understand how much he's hiding, do you?"

"Enlighten me."

"I can't, I can't. It's too terrible to put into words."

The Takase River was shallow at this time of year, about as shallow as the movies that Jōgasaki was obsessed with ma.s.s-producing. Still fuming, I stared at the lights of the town twinkling on the water's surface.

Despite Jōgasaki having the charisma of a threadbare mattress, in the closeted world of Misogi he reigned supreme. I was willing to bet that right around now all the freshmen, especially the girls, were fawning over him, and he was probably as high as a cat on catnip, forgetting all about the troubles that dogged him. Though he engaged in vacuous debates about cinema and pretended to be a gentleman, the reality was that the only thing that man was interested in was b.o.o.bs. In fact, b.o.o.bs were the only part of a girl he could see. I bitterly hoped that he would become so lost in his t.i.t fantasies that the rest of his life would fall into ruin.

"Hey, stop s.p.a.cing out," called Ozu.

I snapped out of my reverie, just in time to see a pa.s.sing woman with striking eyebrows look our way and smile. I suavely returned a smile, and she walked over to us. To my everlasting surprise, the one she spoke to was Ozu.

"Well, good evening," she purred. "What are you doing around here?"

"Oh, nothing important."

I distanced myself from the two. I had no intention of eavesdropping, especially with the way the atmosphere had become a little amorous. With all the traffic on the street I couldn't hear their voices, but from where I was standing it appeared that the woman had inserted her fingers into Ozu's mouth and was probing around. They appeared to be quite intimate, not that I was jealous at all.

Continuing to gawk at the two of them was putting me out, so I turned my gaze towards the shops shrouded in the eaves of Kiyamachi Street.

In between the bars and brothels, a dark, squeezed sort of house stood in the shadows. Under the overhang, an old woman sat at a wooden stall covered by a white cloth; she looked like a fortune teller. The sign hanging off the front of the stall was inscribed with all manner of arcane, incomprehensible runes. Above it, the hag's head floated in the gloom, lit only by the hazy orange light of a small lantern. It was a ghastly sight, like seeing a ravenous ghost hungering for the souls of pa.s.sersby. I began to imagine all manner of misfortune befalling me: the shadow of the old woman seemed to follow me everywhere I went; nothing I did went right; people I was expecting never showed up; possessions vanished, never to be seen again; I failed courses that should have been a cinch; a thesis that I was about to present spontaneously combusted; I fell into the ca.n.a.ls of Lake Biwa; I was caught by a snake-oil salesman on Shijō Street; and so forth. While these wild thoughts were going through my head, the old woman noticed me looking at her. She glared at me from the inky darkness with gleaming eyes, drawing me in with her otherworldly emanations. Her suspicious aura was strangely persuasive, and logically thinking I came to the conclusion that the divinations of someone who allowed her supernatural aura to flow so freely could not possibly be wrong.

In my twenty-odd years of life, there had been but a handful of times where I humbly took someone's advice. What if that was the reason I was stuck on this th.o.r.n.y path, unable to move forward? Though I took few risks in life, wasn't there a possibility that I could choose the thorn-lined path? If only I had chosen to stop relying on my own judgment earlier, my campus life certainly would have taken a different shape. I would not have entered the warped Misogi Movie Circle, nor met the twisted Ozu, nor been branded as the Destroyer of Love. Rather, I would have been blessed with wonderful mentors and friends, become accomplished in all the arts and sciences, of course have a beautiful raven-haired maiden at my side, face a glittering golden future ahead of me, and perhaps even have that all-important rosy student life in the palm of my hand. That was the kind of life suited for someone like myself.

That's right. It wasn't too late. The sooner I took a third-party's objective advice, the sooner I could escape this dreary life into the life that I was meant to live.

I moved my legs toward the old woman as if I was being sucked in by her supernatural aura.

"Boy, what is it that you wish to hear?"

The old woman mumbled her words like her mouth was full of cotton, giving the impression that they were all the more valuable.

"I'm not sure where to start…"

Seeing me at a loss for words, she grinned.

"I can see from your face that you are very frustrated, unsatisfied. You are not able to use your full talents; your current situation is not suited for you."

"Yes, that's exactly it!"

"Show me your hands."

The old hag took my palms and peered into them, nodding approvingly.

"You have much earnest talent in you."

I quickly tipped my hat to her keen insight. A true master hides his skills, and I had hidden my talents for so long that even I didn't realize I had them any more. For this old woman to sense those talents within five minutes of meeting me must mean that she was no ordinary person.

"It is essential that you not let opportunities slip away. An opportunity is nothing more than a favorable circ.u.mstance, you understand? But it's difficult to take hold of opportunities. Sometimes they hide in places you don't expect, and sometimes it is only later that you realize something that seemed like an opportunity was really nothing at all. But in order to seize an opportunity you must act. You look like you will have a long life, so sooner or later you will have the chance."

As befitting her aura, her words were truly profound.

"I don't want to wait forever; I want to grab my opportunity now. Can you be a little more specific?"

At my probing, the wrinkles on the old woman's face contorted even further. I thought her right cheek must be itchy or something, but it turned out that she was just smiling.

"It's hard to be specific about the future. Even if I were to tell you about a precise opportunity, it might very well be twisted and warped by the machinations of fate until it was no longer a opportunity when you chanced upon it, and that would just be a disservice to you, wouldn't it? Fate is something that changes from moment to moment, you see."

"But, everything you've told me is too vague to act on."

As I stood there in confusion, she exhaled slowly through her nose.

"Very well. I will refrain from speaking of things far ahead, but I can speak of things that will soon come to pa.s.s."

I widened my ears like Dumbo.

"Colosseum," she suddenly whispered.

"Colosseum? What's that?"

"It is the sign of an opportunity. When an opportunity arrives, it will be accompanied by Colosseum," she intoned.

"So are you telling me I need to go to Rome?"

But the old woman merely grinned.

"When your opportunity comes, you mustn't let it slip away, you mustn't fumble around aimlessly as you have been doing. Seize it, boldly, daringly! If you do, you will no longer be unsatisfied, and be able to embark on a new path, though that path may hold hardships of its own. Then again, I expect that you understand this quite well."

I didn't understand in the slightest, but I nodded anyway.

"Even if you don't catch this one, you don't need to worry. You are a splendid young man, so someday without a doubt you will make it. I can see it. There's no need to rush."

With that, the old woman brought her divinations to an end.

"Thank you very much."

I nodded to her and paid the fee. When I turned around, it was to see Ozu standing behind me.

"Playing the lost lamb, are we?" he said.

Going out into town that night was Ozu's idea. I rarely came here after sunset because I disliked the hustle and bustle. Ozu on the other hand engorged himself on evil thoughts and sauntered around nightly looking for trouble.

He had been moaning about wanting to eat beef tongue with leeks for some time, so we went to the second floor of a yakiniku place on Kiyamachi Street to get some actual nutrition, which was sorely lacking from our usual diets. I ordered some vegetables to go along with the meat, but as I munched on some sizzling shiitake mushrooms Ozu eyed me as if he were witnessing someone shoveling horse dung into his mouth.

"Those are some pretty nasty things you're eating there. Those are mushrooms, you know. Little brown clots of fungus. I can't believe you're eating those. What are those nasty little white gills on the bottom for? Why are they even there?"

Infuriated at how he ignored the vegetables and only ate meat, I pried open his mouth to force scorching hot onions down his throat. He was absolutely committed to his unbalanced diet, and I had never seen him eat a proper meal before.

"Who was the girl from before?"

He looked nonplussed.

"You know, the one you were talking with in front of the fortune teller," I pressed.

"That was Hanuki," he said, taking another bite of beef tongue. "She's an acquaintance of Master Higuchi, and a good friend of mine. She was on her way home from her English conversation school and invited me to go drinking."

"You shameless b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Now you're trying to be Mr. Popular?"

"Of course, the ladies never give me room to breathe. But I had to courteously decline."

"Why?"

"Well, when she gets drunk she has an unfortunate habit of licking people's faces."

"Even your dirty mug?"

"Yes, even my adorable face. It's how she shows her love."

"If someone were to lick your face they'd probably contract an incurable disease. What an extraordinarily reckless woman."

We continued this stupid banter as the meat sizzled on the grill.

"What did that fortune teller tell you?" Ozu leered.

Even though it had been a portentous speech about how I should live my life, Ozu vulgarly dismissed it, guessing, "It was about your love life, wasn't it? What a waste of time!"

He kept breaking my deep train of thought by repeating insults like "Ugh, you're disgusting" and "What a pervert" like a broken record. Eventually I got so angry that I shoved a half-cooked shiitake into his mouth, and we both lapsed into silence.

The old woman had said something about a "Colosseum", but I had never had anything to do with Rome, or with the Colosseum. No matter how hard I searched through my memory, I couldn't come up with a single connection. Still, whatever it was that "Colosseum" referred to would surely appear in the future. But what exactly would it be? If I didn't come up with a plan of action now, I would surely let yet another opportunity slip through my grasp. The prospect filled me with unease.

The restaurant was crowded with young faces that looked like they had been high school students only a few days ago. They must have been attending one of the many welcoming banquets for incoming freshmen that were being held all over the city. It pained me to remember that I had once been a freshman, if only for a brief period, self-consciously br.i.m.m.i.n.g with hope for the future.

"You're wishing your college life had been better, aren't you?" Ozu suddenly cut to the heart of the matter.

I snorted, but maintained my silence.

"It's useless," he sighed, biting into his beef tongue.

"What is?"

"No matter how you played it, you would have eventually ended up the same way."

"To h.e.l.l with that. I certainly would not have."

"There's no point. You just have one of those faces."

"What face?"

"You know, like, you were born under a bad sign, cursed to never live a fulfilling college life."

"You have some nerve saying that; you should look in the mirror more."

Ozu leered, becoming even more youkai-like. "I have fully come to grips with reality of my star-crossed birth. I am enjoying my worthless life as a student as much as I can. So really, sticks and stones, and all that."

I sighed. "It's because you're like that, that I turned out like this."

"Don't you enjoy wasting time like this every day? What do you have to be unhappy about?"

"Everything, that's what. This disagreeable state I find myself in is completely your fault."

"Jeez, not pulling any punches, are you?"

"If I hadn't met you, my life would have been so worthwhile. I would have done well in cla.s.s, gone out with raven-haired maidens, and enjoyed a wonderful life without a single cloud hanging over me. That much is certain."

"Those aren't magic mushrooms you're eating, are they?"

"It's only today that I have truly realized how much my student life has gone to waste."

"Not that I'm trying to make you feel better or anything, but I think that no matter how you led your life you would have run into me. Call it intuition. At any rate I'm doing everything I can to corrupt you. You can't fight fate." He lifted his pinky dramatically. "You and I are bound by the black thread of fate."

I shuddered, imagining myself sinking to the pitch-black depths of the sea, bound to Ozu like a ham by a dark thread. Ozu smiled contentedly at my discomfort and took another bite of beef tongue. d.a.m.ned youkai.

With the tactical retreat from the Kamo delta, the fortuneteller's puzzling words, and Ozu weighing heavily on my mind, I soon drank my cup dry.

"Akashi is still a member of Misogi, isn't she," I groaned, but Ozu shook his head.

"Actually, I heard that she quit just last week. Apparently even Jōgasaki was begging her to stay."

"Really. That's right after we left."

"She's probably only there tonight as an alumnus of the circle. What a loyal woman."

"You sure do know a lot about this."

"Well, I did have a drink with her the other day, since we are fellow engineers."

"You b.a.s.t.a.r.d, pulling a fast one like that—"

I thought about Akashi, sipping a beer amongst the pine trees, indifferent to the idiots on the riverbank below.

"What about Akashi?" Ozu suddenly asked.

"What about her?"

"Up until now, the only wretched soul capable of understanding someone as moronic and repugnant as you has been yours truly—"

"Quiet, you."

"—but she could probably understand you. This is an excellent opportunity. If you don't grab hold of this now, you're probably too far gone to help," he grinned.

I waved my hand to grab his attention.

"Now listen here. I don't want a girl who can understand someone such as myself. I want someone who stops you dead in your tracks, someone whose daintiness and refinement are positively dream-like, a raven-haired maiden whose head is filled only with beautiful things."

"You're still going on about that selfish c.r.a.p?"

"Shut up and leave me alone."

"You're not still wound up about getting dumped by Kohinata during freshman year, are you?"

"Speak not that name in my presence."

"Ah, I knew it. You really don't let things go easily."

"If you continue to speak I will bake your face on this grill right now," I announced. "You're about the last person I'd want to talk about love with."

Ozu suddenly sat up in his chair and laughed scornfully.

"Then, I guess this opportunity is mine. I'll become happy instead of you."

"That's impossible for someone as evil as you. Akashi has a good eye for people. Plus, I bet you already have a girlfriend you've been hiding from me."

"Hehe."

"What are you snickering about?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

While this irritating exchange was going on, I suddenly remembered my surreal chance meeting with Kamotaketsunominokami at Neko Ramen. During that extraordinary yet highly suspicious meeting, that arrogant self-styled G.o.d had hinted that he was weighing Ozu and me on a scale. It had been so fishy that I had completely dismissed it from my mind.

Trying to think rationally through my alcohol-induced haze, I wondered whether the G.o.d had predicted this entire chain of events. No, that couldn't be possible. It was shameful for me of all people to be so lonely that I would be caught up in such a convenient fantasy; it was preposterous to think that I would become romantically involved with a raven-haired maiden like Akashi. But it was still mystifying. That G.o.d had laid out the travails of my life, hinted at my th.o.r.n.y, shameful past, and on top of that guessed precisely the exact situation I was currently going through. There was no explanation for this. Perhaps that G.o.d was the real deal. Perhaps he really did go to Izumo by train each autumn to weave and unravel the red threads of fate.

While I was thinking all this, my vision had gently started weaving side-to-side, and by the time I realized how intoxicated I had become, Ozu was gone. He had stood up saying something about going to the bathroom, but hadn't come back.

At first, I didn't think much of it, allowing my thoughts to gracefully drift hither and yon like a balloon. However, after fifteen minutes had pa.s.sed and Ozu still hadn't returned, I became infuriated thinking about how he had skipped off leaving me inebriated. Departing like a spring breeze and leaving others to deal with the bill was a specialty of his.

"d.a.m.n it, not again..."

Just as I was muttering under my breath, Ozu came back and sat down.

"It's about time—" I said with relief, looking at the person seated across from me.

It wasn't Ozu.

"Come on, eat up. If you want to eat more you'll have to hurry," Akashi said matter-of-factly as she began to grill the remaining meat.

Akashi was a student in the engineering department a year younger than me. Not one to mince words, she was respected but largely avoided by her peers. I was quite fond of her, not least because she wasn't afraid to cross swords with Jōgasaki if the situation called for it. Wielding her razor-sharp tongue, she was more than a match for Jōgasaki. He was always afraid of having his charismatic image injured, and though her cool, intelligent demeanor was certainly to be desired, to say nothing of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, he soon learned not to speak to her too carelessly.

In the summer of her freshman year, Jōgasaki lead an expedition on Mount Yoshida, shooting another one of his unintelligible movies. The freshmen were shooting the breeze during a lunch break. One of them casually asked, "Akashi, what do you do on the weekends?"

Without even looking up, she answered, "Why should I tell you?"

After that, no one asked her about her weekend plans.

I heard about that exchange some time later from Ozu, and proudly thought to myself, "Akashi, you just keep doing your own thing."

I had no clue why someone so level-headed would be in a club as bizarre as Misogi. However, she was was very good at planning, and extremely intelligent, able to quickly figure out how to use any piece of machinery you put in front of her. Thus, despite the fact that everyone gave her a wide berth, she was highly respected. Though Ozu and I were generally left alone as well, it was a bit of a stretch to compare ourselves with Akashi, considering that we two were universally despised.

But even she, as unyielding and unapproachable as a medieval European fortress, had a single weakness.

Last autumn, due to a shortage of available hands, I was forced to grudgingly help out with a movie production. As usual, the location was Mount Yoshida.

Akashi, her face impa.s.sive as that of a wartime censor, was installing audio equipment up on a tree when she suddenly shrieked as though she were a character from a manga and tumbled out of the tree. I swiftly ran up and caught her, or rather, was squashed by her falling form while trying to escape. She clung to me, her hair disheveled, frantically waving her right hand about.

It seemed that, while climbing the tree, she had grabbed a branch that was unexpectedly squishy. In her right hand she was clutching a gigantic moth.

Apparently, she was deathly afraid of moths.

"It squished, it squished…" she whispered over and over, her entire body trembling, her face as pale as if she had just seen a ghost.

Normally she walled herself off from the world, and the fascination I felt seeing such a person show a moment of weakness is indescribable. At that moment, I, the Destroyer of Love, very nearly fell in love. The worldly pa.s.sions which I had thought had sputtered out back in my freshman summer suddenly ignited, but I firmly held back my feelings and chivalrously comforted Akashi, who was still muttering incoherently.

It was hardly likely that she harbored any sympathies toward the futile war that Ozu and I waged. She cast a cold eye on the ostentation of the movie circle, but she would never go so far as to stir up any trouble.

With regard to the movies that Ozu and I made, Akashi simply said, "You've made another idiotic movie again, haven't you?"

She repeated that phrase a total of three times.

Well, counting our final masterpiece, four times. Our last movie, made this spring, was the only one that she actually disliked. This time, she added, "This one was questionable."

"Akashi, why are you here? Weren't you just at the Kamo Delta? Or was it that you could resist your carnivorous l.u.s.t no longer?" I giggled, but she simply scowled and put a finger to her lips.

"You really are clueless. Have you already forgotten that the circle likes to hold events here?"

"I know, I've been to a lot of those myself."

"After the party at the delta was over, Jōgasaki wanted some meat and brought all the freshmen here. They're sitting over there now."

She pointed towards the entrance. I got on my chair and stood on tiptoe, straining to look above the part.i.tioning screen.

"They'll see you," Akashi said sharply, so I slunk back down into my seat

"How could they gorge themselves on meat after a party, those insatiable brutes. Don't they have any pride in their agricultural heritage?" I groused, but she ignored me.

"Things will get inconvenient if you're caught here."

"If it's a fight they want I'll give it to them. If I can. I'm quite sure I will lose."

"You'll be lucky to get a swing in. I expect you'll be red as a cherry by the time you're done getting spanked in front of all those freshmen. Come on, finish eating the rest." She thrust a piece of meat at my face, her own cheeks bulging. Seeing my slightly astonished expression, she blushed and said, "Sorry, it's been some time since I last had meat." Her appet.i.te didn't seem to be diminished by her embarra.s.sment. I was already full, so I told her to eat the rest.

"I'm going to go home now. What about Ozu? Have you seen him?"

"Ozu already escaped out the back door. They don't call him 'Yellow-bellied Ozu' for nothing."

In ancient times, the army of Takeda of Kai was reputed to be as swift as the wind. If Ozu had lived back then, he might even have joined it, if only for the speed with which he fled every engagement.

"I've already settled the bill. If you go out the front, you'll be seen by Jōgasaki and the others, so go out the back. I've asked the staff to let you out that way. I know them quite well, you see."

I was so amazed at how thorough she was that I just nodded meekly and handed her the money for the bill.

"I owe you one."

"Never mind that, just make sure that you keep your promise," she said sternly.

"What promise?" I c.o.c.ked my head, but she just waved dismissively.

"Never mind, for now just get out of here. I need to get back to them soon."

I gulped down the rest of my oolong tea and nodded in grat.i.tude. Picking my unsteady steps carefully, I ducked past the part.i.tion and out into the dark corridor.

A older lady wearing a white ap.r.o.n stood by an exit marked "STAFF ONLY" and opened the door as I approached. I muttered my thanks, to which she murmured, "Poor dear, you have it rough, don't you?" I wondered how much Akashi had actually told her.

Outside, I found myself in a dark and cramped alleyway. Exiting onto the streets of Kiyamachi, I looked around for Ozu, but he was nowhere to be found.

Allow me to elaborate on my final film production.

With the return of spring, my frustrations reached a new peak. Jōgasaki was relentlessly waving his big stick and ordering everyone around without so much as a hint of letting up. Like an infant sucking on a pacifier, he suckled at the teat of authority, while greedily eying all of the freshman t.i.ts around him. In their turn, the freshmen were captivated by Jōgasaki's laughable charisma, and appeared content to waste their perfectly good school days under the thrall of Jōgasaki's pitiful cult of personality. They were in desperate need of a cold dose of reality, and I decided that I would take on that most unpleasant and thankless duty.

I prepared two movies to show at the spring film festival that was being held for prospective new members. The first was a dramatic reading of the Nasuno Yoichi scene from The Tale of the Heike, performed in a threadbare 4½ room by none other than Ozu. The uppercla.s.smen, led by Jōgasaki, unanimously rejected it. I was hardly surprised.

"You can shoot whatever the h.e.l.l you want," Jōgasaki said from the darkroom, "Just don't get in the way of the recruiting efforts."

I thundered back with a speech that would have made Winston Churchill proud, silencing the dissenters and winning my film a spot at the festival, forcing them to allow my screening. They may have sensed that this would be my last gasp.

In secret, I had prepared a second film.

This one was a puppet show based on The Tale of Momotaro, but the old couple that found the boy for some reason give him the name Masaki instead. From there, Masaki's vile journey begins. Masaki starts the Onigashima movie circle, and uses drugged dumplings to force the undercla.s.smen to do his bidding. He waxes lyrical on his warped worldview and theories on love; he ogles women who are brought to him by his faithful dog, monkey, and pheasant; though outwardly he is the very model of a modern gentleman, this is merely the mask under which his outrageously lecherous persona hides. He feasts on debauchery, and eventually creates and reigns over the Masaki Kingdom. In the end, two champions of justice come along, dye Masaki's body completely pink, roll him inside a bamboo mat and throw him into the Kamo River, restoring freedom to the galaxy.

On the surface, the film seemed like a run-of-the-mill black comedy based on Momotaro, so I did my best to give it some genuine entertainment value. However, "Masaki" was Jōgasaki's given name, and I gave all the other characters the names of their real-life counterparts. This movie, though framed in the Momotaro story, was nothing less than an exposé on Jōgasaki.

I was completely reliant on Ozu to get the inside scoop on Jōgasaki. Ozu was privy to Jōgasaki's deepest, darkest secrets, including some that even one such as myself would be loath to reveal. "I have connections in the Information Bureau," was all he would say, but his methods were still a mystery. Repulsed by his depravity, I redoubled my efforts that I might be rid of him as quickly as possible.

On the day of the screening, I had Ozu swap the Tale of the Heike film with 'Momotaro: The Jōgasaki Story' before the screening started. Then, under cover of darkness, I slipped out of the building.

After escaping the yakiniku place in Kiyamachi, I rode my bike north on Kawabata Street.

The lights of the city glittered on the other bank of the swollen Kamo River, like a scene from a dream. Sitting on the riverbank between Great Sanjō Bridge and Oike Bridge was the usual herd of couples, s.p.a.ced out at very regular intervals. I paid no mind to it. Who would pay any attention to that? And after all, I'm a busy person. I kept riding my bike, and soon both the lights of the shopping district and the Kamo River couples zone faded into the night.

Even at this hour, the Kamo Delta still buzzed with activity, swarming with empty-headed students up to no good. On the north bank of the river I could see the dense groves of Aoi Park. With the cool night air whispering against my face, I pedaled on towards Shimogamo Shrine, leaving the Kamo Delta behind.

The Shimogamo shrine road was pitch black. I parked my bike at the entrance to the road and walked into the gloom of the Tadasu Forest. In the distance I saw the small bridge I had leaned against while drinking ramune at last summer's Shimogamo Shrine book fair.

The horse-riding grounds run parallel to the shrine road. During the book fair they were crammed with tents, filled with people trawling through for books. Since it was just a short stroll from Shimogamo Yūsuisō, I visited almost every day. Now, the darkened grounds were eerily empty, as if the bustle of those days had been nothing more than a dream.

The book fair was where I first met Akashi.

That day, I basked in the summer atmosphere on the sprawling grounds, drinking ramune under the sunlight filtering through the trees and browsing the rows of tents lined up around me. There were so many boxes filled with musty tomes it made my head spin. A number of folding stools were set up in the field, occupied by people who like me, appeared to be woozy from all the books stacked around them. I found a chair of my own and sat down to take a breather. I took out a handkerchief to wipe away the sweat beading on my brow in the sweltering August heat.

In front of me was a shop called Gabi Used Books, and sitting on a metal folding chair in front of it was Akashi. 'Isn't that one of the undercla.s.smen from the circle?' I thought to myself. It appeared that she was minding the shop. At the time, she had just entered Misogi, but both her skills and aloofness were apparent to everyone. I stood up and began browsing through the bookshelves. When I glanced over and made eye contact with her, she bobbed her head slightly. I ended up purchasing a copy of Jules Verne's Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. As I began to walk away, she ran after me.

"Take this," she said, offering me a fan inscribed with the words "Shimogamo Used Book Fair". Fanning my sweat-beaded face, I walked off into the Tadasu Forest, the book dangling from my hand.

The next day, I woke up in the evening and went to a café near Demachi to have dinner. On my way past the Kamo Delta, I could see the pyre on the mountain illuminated in the dying afternoon light. This would probably be a great place to watch the Okuribi festival bonfires. I started daydreaming about watching the Daimonji fires here with Akashi, but standing there in the cool evening wind and imagining things was doing nothing to fill my belly, so I left it off there.

Giving up on my delusions, I returned to my 4½-tatami room and started reading Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. But however much I tried to lose myself in flights of fancy within that cla.s.sic adventure, the only things that came to mind were the usual delusions. The fortune teller's prediction and the sudden appearance of Kamotaketsunuminokami must somehow be related, or so I imagined. I turned the word "Colosseum" over in my mouth. I still didn't see what opportunity I was supposed to grab hold of.

As night fell, Ozu came calling.

"Nice going last night," he remarked.

"And you're as fleet of foot as ever."

"Hey, lighten up, will you?" he shot back. "You don't have a girlfriend, you were 'voluntarily' exiled from the circle, you don't study at all; what on earth do you intend to do with your life?"

"You'd better watch your mouth or I'll bash your skull in!"

"You? Bash my skull in? I'm petrified." He grinned. "I brought you a little something, so cheer up, huh?"

"What's this?"

"A castella. I got a ton of them from Master Higuchi, and sharing is caring, right?"

"I can't believe you're actually giving someone something."

"Well, the way I see it, there's nothing sadder than cutting up and eating a big castella like this all by your lonesome. I just wanted you to taste true solitude."

"Oh, I get it. Yeah, I'll eat an extra helping just for you."

For once, Ozu decided to talk about the Master.

"The other day, the Master decided he wanted a seahorse, so I got a tank from the garbage dump and brought it to him. But when we tried to fill it with water, it broke and all the water came gushing out. The Master's room got completely flooded."

"Hold on, where's his room?"

"It's right above this one."

I was suddenly seized with fury. Just recently, while I was out and about, my ceiling sprang a leak. When I came back the trickling water had soaked all of my books, and the ink on the pages had run together into an unintelligible mess. Not only that, but my computer was also destroyed, and every single electron that made up my data was washed out to sea. Of course, this incident spelled the end of whatever academic comeback I might have hoped to make. I had wanted to march up and lodge a furious protest, but decided that getting entangled with the unidentified resident of the room above me was too troublesome, and in the end I left the account unsettled.

"So that was your work?"

"I'm sure the destruction of your p.o.r.n library was no big deal," he brazenly a.s.serted.

"All right, get the h.e.l.l out of my room. I have more important things to do."

"I was already on my way. I'm going to the master's place for blind hotpot tonight anyway."

I kicked the smirking b.a.s.t.a.r.d out into the hallway and was at last able to breathe a sigh of relief.

The night began to wear on. While listening to the burbling sound of the coffeemaker, I eyed the castella Ozu had brought. Ozu had intended me to fall victim to my loneliness, but I had no intention of giving in. After the coffee boiled, I cleared my mind before calmly eating the castella. The sweet aroma of the cake brought back hazy memories of childhood.

As I chewed, I was struck with the realization that it really was quite tiresome to be eating this large castella alone. It would be much preferable to be sipping black tea elegantly with agreeable companionship, perhaps with someone like Akashi, but definitely not Ozu… Akashi? I was astonished that I was even having these thoughts. I had been shaken by the many unexpected events that had happened over the past few days—the retreat from the Kamo Delta, the irksome meddling by that G.o.d, the fortuneteller's mysterious prophecy, meeting Akashi at the yakiniku place—that my powers of reason were dissolving like a sugar cube.

Though I was far from burning with the pa.s.sions of love, this sudden temporary pining for companionship mostly certainly contradicted my own creed. Was it not by scorning those shameless, intemperate students who were unable to bear their own loneliness that I had won my infamous reputation as the Destroyer of Love? Was it not by struggling through this ceaseless battle that I had s.n.a.t.c.hed victory from the jaws of utter defeat?

"Then I guess this opportunity is mine. I'll become happy instead of you."

That was what Ozu had said in the restaurant. I didn't trust anything that the suspicious G.o.d said, and I was sure that someone as sharp as Akashi would never be fooled by a perverted, malnourished youkai such as Ozu. On the other hand, she did seem open-minded enough to be happy in such a relationship. Come to think of it, both she and Ozu were in the engineering department, and they were also ex-members of the same circle. If I just stood idly by, the unthinkable might happen and Ozu and Akashi might really become romantically involved. This had nothing to do with my personal heartache: Akashi's future was at stake.

Above me, a moth had somehow entered my room and was fluttering around the brand new fluorescent light. Through the walls I could hear a man and a woman talking. Straining my ears, I discerned that the hushed endearments and stifled giggles were coming from the adjoining room. I walked out into the hallway to investigate, and though the window above the door was darkened, with my ear pressed to the wall I could hear them whispering sweet nothings to each other.

The person who lived in that room was a Chinese exchange student. I was sure that leaving the mainland and crossing the sea to come to an unfamiliar land must have been difficult. For the two of them to find comfort in each other was a natural human instinct, and something that I was not in a position to criticize. That much, I understood, and yet I couldn't just leave it alone. But not being able to understand the language, I couldn't give myself the small joy of eavesdropping on the lovers' talk coming from the darkened room. I bitterly cursed myself for not having studied Chinese as a second language, and in frustration returned to desperately devouring the castella.

Was I losing?

Was I really losing to my loneliness?

I began wildly gnawing the castella again as if to show an invisible audience how much fun I was having sitting in this empty room by myself, but after a while I regained control of myself. Holding back the tears that threatened to well up from the empty hole inside me, I put down the half-eaten castella. Then I did a double take. Viciously chewed up, it looked less like a sponge cake, and more like an ancient Roman…

"Colosseum," I murmured.

What an absurdly roundabout prophecy.

The day I left the circle, I ran into Akashi.

The spring film festival was being held in one of the lecture halls. After starting up the Momotaro film, I quickly left the hall under cover of darkness and walked to the circle's clubroom. As stupid as Jōgasaki was, even he would grasp the true meaning of the film after a few minutes. It was clear that if I was caught I would be strung up by his lackeys, so I left quickly to collect my belongings from the clubroom.

In the golden rays of the setting sun, the blossoms on the trees gleamed like magical sugar candy. I had no clue why I had stayed in this ridiculous circle for two years, but now that I was really leaving, I was starting to get sentimental.

Ozu had beat me to the clubroom and was already stuffing his things into a backpack, like a youkai scrounging for human bones. I had to admire him for his uncanny ability to always be the first one out of the gate.

"You sure got here quickly," I commented.

"Well, you know how I just hate being in sticky situations. No point in sticking around, so I figured I'd make like a tree and leave, though it seems we've already cut ourselves a big slice of trouble."

"You don't say?"

I tossed most of my things into my bag, but decided to leave my collection of manga and novels as a parting gift.

"You don't have to leave the circle with me, you know," I commented

"You've got a lot of nerve saying that, considering you made me help you. It would be pointless staying here by myself, wouldn't it?" he huffed. "And unlike you, I have diversified my campus portfolio, so I still have lots of places I can go."

"You know, I've always wondered what kinds of other things you do."

"Well, I'm a member of a certain secret society, the Master always has something for me to do, I'm also part of a religious circle...and my love life is extremely busy."

"Wait. I thought you were single!"

His lips curled upward, but he said nothing.

"What's with that smirk on your face?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

As we rummaged through the room, Ozu suddenly whispered, "Someone's coming!", and sprinted out of the room before I could tell him to wait. What incredible speed. Just as I grabbed my bag to follow him out, Akashi entered the room.

"Oh, Akashi."

She took a large swig from the cola bottle she was holding and frowned at me.

"You've made another idiotic movie again, haven't you?" she said. "I watched part of it."

"Did they stop the screening?"

"Well, the viewers found it interesting, so there's no way they could without making a scene. But Aijima and a few others are you looking for you now. They'll probably be here soon. I suggest you flee if you don't want to get beaten to death."

"I see. Well, as long as the audience enjoyed it..."

She shook her head.

"I liked the ones you made before. This one was questionable."

"Well, this one was just a hit-and-run."

Her eyes went to the bag I was holding.

"Are you quitting the club?"

"Of course."

"I guess it can't be helped considering what you did this time. You've blown away the last shreds of what honor you had here."

I gave a hollow smile. "I've been looking forward to this for a long time."

"You're a moron."

"I suppose you're right."

"That movie was supposed to be Ozu's Heike movie, wasn't it? I wanted to see that."

"If you want to, I can show it to you."

"Really? Then it's a promise."

"Yeah, next time. But it's really not good at all."

"It's a promise," she insisted.

"I'm leaving my manga here, so make sure to read them for me."

And just like that, I left the s.p.a.ce where I had spent the past two years struggling and grinding myself into dust behind. As long as my last masterpiece had dealt a blow to Jōgasaki's standing I was content. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that was impossible.

At the door, I turned to look back. Akashi was sitting there reading my manga.

"Well, Akashi, I bid you farewell. Do not be fooled by Jōgasaki's lies."

She turned and glared at me.

"Do I look that stupid to you?"

At that moment, I saw Aijima and a few other brawny fellows charging towards me. Without replying, I turned and fled for my life.

I spent a restless night with my loneliness and my reason battling it out like two evenly matched champions in the corners of my mind. In the morning I headed towards campus, but I was preoccupied with so many things that the day pa.s.sed by in a blur.

After minutely a.n.a.lyzing each facet of the situation, I eventually came up with a foolproof plan of action, not allowing my concerns over whether I might be overthinking everything to get in the way of a decisive a.n.a.lysis. Weighing the lives of Akashi, Ozu, and myself on a scale, I considered the many possible paths and outcomes. To the question of who deserved to have a happy ending, I came up with an answer astonishingly quickly. I also pondered whether it was too late for someone who wrecked relationships and risked death by horse to change his path. It was a very difficult question to answer.

I made my way home from campus as twilight fell over the city. I shut myself in my room to collect my thoughts one last time.

Having made up my mind, I left my room and went to go see the G.o.d.

Though I had lived in the Yūsuisō for two years, this was the first time I had gone to the second floor. The corridor was littered with a.s.sorted belongings, and was even more filthy than the first floor. It was like walking on a crowded downtown street, and the further you went in the dimmer it became, as if you were picking your way through a back alley in Kiyamachi. I arrived at the end of the hall, room 210. In front of the door were scattered an armchair (with ottoman), a dust-covered fishtank, a discolored Keroyon frog figurine, and a banner from the book fair, among various other objects. There were so many things that there was hardly a place to stand. For the domicile of a G.o.d, there was certainly a lack of decorum. I wanted to flee from the chaos and return to the tranquility of the first floor to live out my days out in peace, but at the same time hated myself for having such foolish hopes. There was no name on the doorplate.

At any rate, if this turned out to be a prank I told myself I would just laugh it off. Gathering up every ounce of manly resolve I could muster, I knocked on the door.

"Yahwhozit?"

With a loud, silly yawn, the G.o.d popped his head out.

"Ah, it's you. Well, what have you decided?" he said, sounding like someone who was trying to figure out his weekend plans.

"Ozu is unacceptable. Pick me for Akashi instead."

He smiled.

"Very well. Wait in that chair for a bit."

He withdrew into the room; I could hear him rustling around inside. I had no intention of sitting in that dust-covered chair, so I just stood in the hallway. After a while he came out of the room, saying "Well, let's go. Follow me."

Where were we going? Surely it wasn't to offer a sacrifice at Shimogamo Shrine? I shivered with misgivings behind him, but instead of going towards the shrine, he proceeded purposefully past the lights of Shimogamo Saryō and headed south. As I followed in bewilderment, we pa.s.sed by Demachiyanagi Station before heading down the river to Imadegawa Street and stopping on the east end of the Great Kamo Bridge. He looked at his wrist.w.a.tch.

"What are we doing?" I asked apprehensively, but he simply put a finger to his lips.

Dusk had already fallen, and the Kamo Delta was once again occupied by boisterous students. The Kamo River was swollen due to the recent rains, its surface shimmering like gilded silver with the reflections of the streetlamps that were flickering on one by one. Now that the day was fading, Imadegawa Street was bustling and the Great Kamo Bridge was packed with the dazzling lights of pa.s.sing cars. The orange lamps that dotted the bridge burned mysteriously in the night. For some reason, tonight the bridge looked awfully wide.

While I stood there trembling, the G.o.d gave me a wallop on the back.

"Now, go and cross the bridge."

"Why?"

"Listen well. Akashi is going to come from the other side. Talk to her, ask her out to a café or something. Quite a romantic view here, wouldn't you say?"

"That's impossible, I can't!"

"Oh, don't be so melodramatic. Now go on, get going."

"What's going on?. Didn't you say that you make these matches when you go to Izumo in the fall? Isn't it pointless to do anything before you do that?"

"What an insufferably logical person you are. Even though we do make those matches, it's still important to put all the pieces in place. Now go."

With a gentle push from him, I started stumbling across the bridge. It was really quite irritating, to be treated like a fool. From behind, he called, "Oh, you'll run into a strange person before you get to Akashi, but pay him no mind."

I pa.s.sed a number of strangers as I walked, but before long I came across a familiar, sinister face floating in the light of one of the lamps by the guardrail; a demonic visage that I would never forget as long as I lived. Why was he here? I glared at him, but Ozu simply smiled, hopped over, and punched me in the stomach. "Oof," I gasped, but he simply walked off towards the east.

I stood right at the center of the bridge, doubled over and clutching my stomach, with the Kamo River flowing beneath me. Over to the south, at the misty ends of the river, the far-off lights of Shijō Street blinked and sparkled like gems.

At that moment, Akashi came walking by.

I attempted to strike up a casual conversation, but suddenly froze up.

As her senior, I normally had no issues with exchanging words with her. But now that I was throwing away my reputation as the fearsome Destroyer of Love and attempting to build a relationship of my own, my body suddenly became as stiff as concrete and my mouth was as dry as the surface of Mars. My eyes were unfocused, and I gasped as if I had forgotten how to breathe. I had never felt or acted so vulnerable before, and would almost gladly have thrown myself into the coursing waters of the Kamo River and be washed out of Kyoto to escape Akashi's penetrating gaze.

"Good evening," she said, a little suspiciously. "Were you able to make it out of the restaurant safely?"

"…yes, thanks to you…"

"Out for a stroll?"

"…yes, yes…"

And on that note, my creased gray matter suddenly stopped working. The silence was golden.

"Well, have a pleasant evening," she said, beginning to walk away.

It couldn't be helped. As someone who had always interfered with others' romance, I hadn't a clue as to how to actually walk that path myself. I couldn't suddenly be expected to gambol on the pathway of love when my heart was overgrown with the thorns of pride. At the very least, I needed a little more preparation. This would be all for today. I silently patted myself on the back for a job well done.

As Akashi and I went our separate ways, we were startled by the sudden appearance of a goblin striking a dramatic pose on the handrail right beside us. It was Ozu. It was impossible to guess what he was thinking, bathed in that bright orange light, but it was an uncanny sight. We stared up at him, dumbfounded.

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing up there?" I said.

He opened his eyes wide and leered rapaciously at us.

"You didn't think you were done, did you? You're unbelievable. Spurn not the divine command! Proceed down the pathway of love!"

I suddenly remembered and looked towards the east end of the bridge. Kamotaketsunuminokami was still standing there with his arms folded, peering at our exchange with great interest.

"You mean to say this was all your trickery, Ozu?" I felt my stomach drop. "I get it now. You really had me going."

"What is this, what's going on?" Akashi whispered to me.

"Didn't you make an oath to the G.o.d of Shimogamo Shrine?" he accused. "You must grab hold of that opportunity now. Can't you see it? Akashi is right next to you!"

"Keep your nose out of it!"

"If you don't act now, I'm going to jump!"

With those absurd words, he turned his back on us and spread his arms as if he were going to leap out into the void.

"Wait a minute. What does my love life have to do with you jumping?"

"You know, I'm not really sure," he admitted.

Akashi tried to persuade him as well. "Ozu, the river is swollen right now. If you jump you're going to drown!"

While this bizarre exchange was going on, screams suddenly came from the Kamo Delta to the north. The students at the party were in an uproar, running this way and that.

"What is that?" said Ozu, crouching down. Leaning over the handrail to look, I could make out what looked like a dark cloud stretching from the Aoi Park forest to the delta. It buzzed loudly as it grew larger, enveloping the entire delta. The people inside the cloud ran around frantically flapping their arms and batting at their heads. We gazed at the scene, mesmerized, as the dark cloud began to creep over the surface of the water towards us.

The noise from the delta began to become even more tumultuous. The cloud kept pouring out of the pine trees. It was an incredible sight. Flutterflutterflutterflutterflutter went the squirming cloud as it rolled towards us like a carpet, rising above the water, billowing over the handrail and burying the Great Kamo Bridge like an avalanche.

"GYEEEEEEEEEEE" Akashi shrieked.

It was a giant swarm of moths.

The next day the moth plague made the front page, though n.o.body knew where the moths had come from. By tracing their route, it appeared that the swarm had originated in the Tadasu Forest, that is to say, Shimogamo Shrine, but many questions were left unanswered. For instance, there was no explanation for why all the moths in the forest would simultaneously decide to migrate. There was an alternative rumor going around that the moths had actually come from the neighboring Izumigawa town, but that explanation was even more confusing. It appeared that the neighborhood around my boarding house had been inundated with moths for a brief while as well.

When I returned later that night, the corridor was littered with moth corpses. I had forgotten to lock my door, so my room was carpeted with them as well, but I reverently gathered the corpses and buried them.

As moths thrummed around me, filling the air with glittering scales and occasionally attempting to force their way into my mouth, I fought my way through the swarm to Akashi and gallantly shielded her from the worst of it. Being originally from the city, I had formerly never had to coexist with bugs, but after two years in the boarding house, I had become intimately acquainted with all sorts of arthropods.

Even so, the sheer number of moths that night was utterly overwhelming. The drone of beating wings cut us off from the outside world, as if it were not moths but a swarm of winged imps pa.s.sing over the bridge. It was nearly impossible to see anything. What little I could see through my squinted eyes was limited to the moths dancing in the orange light of the streetlamps, and Akashi's shining black hair.

After a while the swarm moved on, leaving only a few stragglers flitting here and there. Akashi's face was ashen as she frantically brushed herself off all over, shrieking, "Are they on me? Are they on me?" before sprinting away away from the writhing moths still dotting the ground with frightening swiftness towards the east end of the bridge and collapsing to the ground in the soft light of a café.

The carpet of moths slowly rolled down the river towards Shijō. I suddenly noticed the yukatclad G.o.d standing next to me, stretching to look over the guardrail. His face crumpled, but it was hard to tell whether he was crying or laughing.

"That fool Ozu. He really fell off, didn't he," he remarked.

The two of us jogged down the embankment on the west side of the bridge. In front of us, the Kamo River thundered by. It was so swollen and wide that the surrounding shrubbery was being pickled in the water.

We waded into the water and approached the underside of the bridge; something seemed to be wriggling in the shadows of the pillars. Ozu clung there desperately like a discarded piece of trash, trying not to be swept away. The water wasn't too deep, but it was swift, so the G.o.d was nearly swept off his feet despite his supposedly divine powers. With some difficulty, we made our way to Ozu.

"You moron!" I yelled while being drenched by the spray.

Ozu simply laughed through his tears, "Heehee, I caught something," and held out his arms triumphantly. He was clutching a plush teddy bear.

"It came flowing right to me," he said, whimpering with pain. "Behold, unworthy Ozu turns pain into profit!"

"Be still," the G.o.d commanded.

"Of course, master. My right leg hurts a lot," he meekly submitted.

"You're Ozu's master?" I asked."

"Indeed," smiled the G.o.d.

The G.o.d/Ozu's master and I picked Ozu up. "Ow, ow, watch the leg!" he demanded ungratefully as we dragged him to the sh.o.r.e. Akashi was also on the riverbank; though she had suffered a considerable shock from the moths, she was sharp as always and had already called for an ambulance. Now she just sat on a bench holding her pale face in her hands. We rolled Ozu like a log up the beach, then began to dry our clothes, shivering with cold.

"It hurts, it hurts. Help me," moaned Ozu.

"Oh, shut it. You're the one that climbed on the railing to begin with," I snapped. "The ambulance will be here soon, so just deal with it a little longer."

"Ozu, you show a lot of promise," Ozu's master said.

"Master, thank you very much!"

"But when I told you to break a leg, I didn't mean it literally, you know. What an incorrigible fool."

Ozu lay there sobbing.

After about five minutes the ambulance arrived at the Great Kamo Bridge. Ozu's master went up the embankment to fetch the EMTs, who promptly wrapped Ozu in a blanket and set him on a stretcher. I would have been overjoyed if at that point they threw him into the river, but they of course being professionals did not distinguish between their patients. Without sparing a thought on Ozu's evil doings, they punctiliously carried the stretcher back to the ambulance.

"I shall accompany Ozu," said his master, climbing into the ambulance. The sirens soon faded away into the distance.

At last, only Akashi and I were left. Akashi still had her face buried in her hands, as I shivered in my drenched clothes. I still held the teddy bear that Ozu had found while clinging to the bridge. It looked dolefully up at me as I squeezed it, wringing the water out. It was really quite a handsome bear.

"Are you okay?" I asked Akashi.

"I really can't stand moths," she moaned.

"Well, would you like some coffee to calm down?"

I was certainly not making a craven attempt to take advantage of her fear of moths; I was simply concerned by the lack of color in her face.

I bought canned coffee from a nearby vending machine and drank it together with her, and gradually color returned to her face. She kept squeezing the bear, looking dumbfounded.

"This is a Mochiguman, isn't it?" she said.

"What's a Mochiguman?" I asked.

She told me about her collection of teddy bears, all of which were identical to this one. There were five of them, and since they were all soft and squishy like mochi, she named them Mochiguma. As a unit they were called "Fluffy Squadron Mochiguman", and she spent many days comforting herself by poking at their furry behinds. However, last year at the Shimogamo Shrine book fair one of them had fallen off of her bag and had been lost ever since.

"Then, this is the one you lost?"

"It's amazing, isn't it? Why would it be here of all places?"

"It was probably washed down here by the river," I speculated. "Ozu found it, but I'm sure you can just take it home."

She gave me a dubious glance, but sat up straight after a moment, looking happy that her bear collection was complete again. She seemed to have completely recovered from the moth attack.

"Ozu invited me to the café today, and then he told me to cross the bridge. I wonder what that was all about."

"Beats me."

"But he's fascinating, isn't he? I once saw him run back and forth across the Hyak.u.manben crossing waving a huge Ferrari flag."

"Don't get close to him, you'll get infected by his stupidity."

Akashi hmm-hmmed, nodding her head.

"I think it's too late for you. As far as I can tell you've already been infected by him."

For a moment I was taken aback, but then said, "I just remembered."

"Remembered what?"

"Didn't I say I would show you the movie?"

I was talking about the bizarre movie I had made just before leaving the circle of Ozu reciting a story from The Tale of the Heike.

"That's right!" she said, looking pleased.

We agreed to meet the next week so I could deliver the movie to her. We met at the Madoi restaurant to the southwest of the Hyak.u.manben crossing, and incidentally decided to have dinner together.

The movie is of decidedly mixed merit, and while I am firmly in the naysayers' camp, at least Akashi enjoyed it.

To describe how the relationship between Akashi and I developed after that would deviate from the purpose of this ma.n.u.script; consequently, I will refrain from recounting those events here. I am sure my readers would rather not waste their time reading such contemptible stuff.

There is nothing more boring than telling a story of requited love.

It is true that after Master Higuchi absconded, a great many changes entered my life; however, I would be vexed if that were to be interpreted as a vindication of my actions. I am not so naive as to so easily overlook the mistakes of the past. On occasion, I would consider magnanimously embracing my past self. Perhaps things would be different if I were a young lady, but who would want to embrace a disgusting twenty-something man like myself? Driven by this indignation, I refuse to absolve my past self of these sins.

I couldn't shake off the feeling that choosing to become a disciple in front of that fateful clock tower that day had been a mistake. What if I had chosen a different path? If I had responded to that call for disciples, or chosen the softball circle, or even entered the secret society, my past two years certainly would have been quite different. At least, it is plain my life would not have been as twisted as it is now. Perhaps that ever elusive rosy student life would have been in my grasp. I could not bring myself to deny that the past two years had been full of mistakes and missed opportunities.

Above all, my unfortunate mistake of meeting Ozu would surely haunt me for the rest of my life.

Ozu was for a time admitted to a hospital beside campus.

It was quite delightful to see him strapped down to the white hospital bed. Owing to his already ghoulish complexion, it appeared as if he had contracted some incurable disease, though in reality it was merely a broken bone. In fact, he was probably lucky to get off with just a fracture. I sat there gloating as he grumbled about his inability to partake in any of his usual wicked habits, but whenever I got tired of his bleating I stuffed a slice of castella in his mouth to shut him up.

I could hardly believe that he had dragged his Master into his idiotic plan, pointlessly broken a bone falling off the bridge just to get Akashi and me together. None of us could ever hope to understand what he gained out of all this. Then again, we didn't need to.

"I hope you've learned your lesson about sticking your nose into people's business?" I said while stuffing my cheeks with castella, but he shook his head.

"Don't be ridiculous. What else would I do with myself?"

What an incurable character.

I demanded to know what was so interesting about toying with an innocent person like me.

His customary youkai-like grin floated to his face.

"It's how I show my love!"

"I don't need that nasty stuff," I replied.