The Tatami Galaxy Chapter 3

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.

After two years of complete unproductivity, I became a third-year college student.

In late May, I was caught up in a dramatic King Lear-esque affair with three women. I will now tell all about this sordid incident; however, keep in mind that this is neither a tragedy nor a comedy. If anyone cries upon reading this tale, they are either needlessly sensitive, or have had a speck of curry powder inconveniently enter one of their contact lenses. Contrariwise, those who read this account with tears of mirth I consider to be mortal enemies, and I would chase them to the ends of the earth to exact my revenge, throwing them headfirst into a hot spring to boil as if I were preparing a cup of instant ramen.

As long one is willing to learn, even the slightest, most trivial thing can impart wisdom—or so some famous person probably once said, though I'm sure that you can apply that saying to this series of events.

I learned a great many things—too many to enumerate. If I had to pick two, they would be: one, don't leave decision making up to your Johnson; and two, don't stand on the guardrail of the Great Kamo Bridge.

As for the rest, you can read between the lines.

It was the dead of night in late May.

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 dilapidated enough that it could be placed on the list of j.a.pan's Important Cultural Properties. Yet, I doubt anyone would bat an eye if it were to burn down. Even the landlord, who lives to the east, would most certainly be relieved.

I sat on the tatami mats of my domicile in room 110, glaring at the fluorescent light overhead which was dimly flickering in and out. I knew that I needed to change it soon, but I just couldn't be bothered to put in the effort.

As I was about to reach into my p.o.r.nography collection, I was disturbed by a loud knocking on my door: my despicable friend Ozu had come to visit, and any hopes I had had for some nice, quiet alone time were dashed. Pretending to be out, I tried to concentrate on reading, but he continued to bark for me to open the door. He never was one to show regard for anyone else..

Once I opened the door, I was met with Ozu's usual devilish grin. "A moment of your time." He said before he turned back towards the corridor and continued, "This way, Miss Kaori. I do apologize for the mess."

It was disgraceful for him to be slinking around Shimogamo Shrine at this hour with a female companion, no doubt hoping to score. But even I had the sense to hide my p.o.r.n in the presence of a lady.

As I hastily stuffed the materials back onto the shelf, Ozu came in, glancing askance at me. On his back he was carrying a pet.i.te woman. Her beautiful hair swayed back and forth, but the sight of such a lovely woman surrendering herself to a demon like Ozu was nothing short of criminal.

"What's wrong, is she drunk?" I asked apprehensively.

"What are you talking about? She isn't even a person," was his baffling reply.

Ozu sat her down against my bookshelf. Judging from the sweat beading on his forehead, she seemed to be fairly heavy. He rearranged her hair neatly, and her face came into view.

She was quite lovely, and her skin looked and felt as if it was real. Her hair was carefully groomed, and not an article of clothing was out of place. She looked just like a well-to-do young lady, except that she didn't move so much as a muscle. It was as if she had been frozen in time, forever looking wistfully into the distance.

"This is Kaori," Ozu announced.

"What is she?"

"A love doll, duh? I can't leave her in my room, so I need you to take care of her for a while."

"You barge into my room at two in the morning, and now you expect me to—"

"Now, now, it'll only be for a week. She's well behaved, I promise."

He smirked again.

"And look, it's all sunshine and flowers in here now. At least your gloomy little room will look a little brighter with her here, won't it?"

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 encountered on the street late at night eight out of ten people would mistake him for a youkai. The remaining two people were 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 Honwaka softball circle in the spring of my freshman year was mostly 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. 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 to catch my gaze was a group of students holding a billboard displaying "Misogi Movie Circle". However as I didn't have the nerve to introduce myself I kept circling the clock tower. Suddenly, another group of students holding a sign saying "Honwaka" came into view.

The Honwaka Softball Circle borrows a spot on the field to play softball every weekend. Practice is not mandatory, and other than the occasional scheduled game, members are free to do as they please. The warm, snuggly name and leisurely agenda immediately struck a chord with me; plus, there seemed to be a large number of girls in the circle as well.

I did not play sports in high school, but neither did I partic.i.p.ate in any cultural activities. I simply holed myself up with a group of like-minded fellows, refraining from doing anything that required effort.

"Getting some exercise might not be so bad," I thought. Being in a serious athletic club might be too arduous for me, but Honwaka was just a circle. Besides, I was more interested in friendly socializing, not chasing a little white ball day in and day out, worrying about reaching the national championships. Farewell, gloomy high school days; from here on out I would be breaking a refreshing sweat while making a hundred friends. With a little effort, I would soon be conversing with fair maidens as easily as if we were tossing a ball back and forth. I was of course interested in learning new skills, not conversing with girls, but if girls were attracted to me because of my new skills, naturally I had no intention of refusing.

That's right, don't be shy, I silently cajoled, quivering with antic.i.p.ation.

I repeat: I was a hopeless fool.

Thus, I entered Honwaka, and was made to realize how bitterly difficult "refreshing socializing" truly was. The atmosphere was so much more unbearably pleasant than I had imagined that I was unable to grow accustomed to it. It was so embarra.s.sing I could hardly stand it. Though I attempted to blossom into a beautiful social b.u.t.terfly, it was hard enough just breaking into the coc.o.o.n of conversation in the first place. By the time I realized that I had to be socially adept to add to the conversation, it was already too late, and soon I lost my place within the circle.

How swiftly my dream was shattered.

However, I still had one kindred spirit within the circle.

His name was Ozu.

Ozu began to complain about how hungry he was after carrying Kaori all this way. Suddenly overcome by an irresistible craving for Neko Ramen, the two of us exited Shimogamo Yūsuisō and walked through the inky darkness to the cart. Neko Ramen is a fabled ramen stand which is rumored to make its broth out of cats. Regardless of fact or fiction, the taste is unparalleled.

While Ozu slurped his steaming ramen, he told me about the doll, Kaori, which he had stolen from her owner's apartment on his Master's orders.

"You—isn't that a crime?"

"Is it?" He shrugged.

"Obviously! I want no part of it."

"But Kaori's owner has been friends with the Master for at least five years. I'm sure he'll understand. Plus," he added, with an indecent grin, "I know you want to try living with her, I can tell."

"You a.s.shole—"

"Don't look at me with those eyes!"

"Oi, stop clinging to me."

"But I'm lonely, and the night air is chilly."

"You lonely b.a.s.t.a.r.d—"

"Kyaa!"

Whiling away the time quarreling like two lovers in front of the Neko Ramen cart soon began to feel completely pointless. And for some reason, this scene seemed frustratingly familiar.

"Hey, haven't we had this conversation before?"

"No way, not something this dumb. It's probably just déjà vu."

As we continued to carry on our idiotic conversation, wavering between ecstasy and terror at the incomparable flavor of Neko Ramen, a new customer came up beside us. 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 dubiously 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 hair cut 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 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.

"Ah, Master, I didn't realize you'd be here too." Ozu bowed his head as he slurped his ramen.

"Yes, well, late night cravings must never be denied."

The strange man sat down and ordered a bowl. So this was Ozu's Master. Ozu paid for the Master's ramen, which was a rare sight considering how miserly he usually was.

"Jōgasaki has been dealt a serious blow with this move. He'd never imagine in a million years that he'd come home from a café to find Kaori had run off on him."

Ozu spoke with great conviction, but the Master frowned and lit a cigar.

"Akashi came by earlier to tell me that we were going too far."

"Again?"

"She insisted that 'trampling on someone's emotions is not a joke', even if they're in love with a doll. I think she's even prepared to expel herself." The Master scratched his scraggly beard.

"Huh, wouldn't expect a tomboy like Akashi to be so soft-hearted. But you gotta put your foot down; you can't be soft on her just because she's a girl."

"It's a little difficult to stomp my foot wearing geta like these..."

"But I already brought her back from Jōgasaki's place. I refuse to take her back!"

"Then where will we leave her?"

"His room." Ozu pointed at me. I silently bowed my head. The Master looked at me with a surprised expression.

"Aren't you a resident of Shimogamo Yūsuisō?"

"That's right."

"I see. Much obliged for the a.s.sistance."

We returned to Shimogamo Yūsuisō; Ozu left in the car that he had used to transport Kaori, while his Master wordlessly bowed to me and ascended to the second floor.

When I returned to my room, the life-sized doll was still leaning against my bookshelf, dreamily gazing into the distance.

Ozu and the Master had been muttering to each other the entire way back, eventually deciding that since they had already taken her, they would just lay low and see how things turned out. But, rather unreasonably, not once did they bother to consult the actual person in whose room lay the doll. Ozu looked smug, as his opinion had eventually prevailed, while the Master looked as if he had never harbored any doubt about the matter in the first place. I had been outfoxed.

After Ozu and I left the Honwaka softball circle, we had continued to a.s.sociate with each other. Though Ozu had left one circle, he seemed to keep himself busy with all sorts of schemes. Whether it was as a member of a mysterious secret society, or as a respected figure within the movie circle, he never seemed to run out of things to do.

He also religiously visited the man he called "Master", who lived on the second floor of Shimogamo Yūsuisō. Ozu 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 p.o.r.n lord.

I sat on my 4½-tatami floor and stared at Kaori, who had abruptly become my new roommate. It was all quite irritating, though I had to admit that she was a very charming doll.

"Kaori, I admit that it's a little dirty, but do make yourself at home," I said out loud. I had to admit that it was stupid, even for me, so I laid out my futon and went to sleep.

After the intrusion into my room by Kaori, the motionless beauty,, the wheels came off my previously tranquil existence. In the s.p.a.ce of only a few days, my life was tossed around by a series of bizarre vicissitudes as though it were a toy boat bobbing around on a raging sea, eventually spitting me on out a new course to parts unknown. It was all Ozu's fault.

The next day, I opened my bleary eyes from atop my futon, and was taken aback by the sight of a prim-looking woman sitting against my bookshelf.

A woman in my room—this was a shocking, unprecedented event.

Last night I must have been flirting with this proper young lady, and the sparks that flew between us had resulted in her staying the night in my room, and this morning she had woken up earlier than me and the memories of last night had all come flooding back, and so utterly distraught, she leaned back against the bookshelf, too shocked to move, and now I would have to take responsibility, and after some heartfelt discussion we would decide the right thing to do was to get married, and I would end up dropping out of school, and unable to keep up with the bills we'd find ourselves in poverty, and unable to bear the ignominy she'd walk out me, and utterly dest.i.tute I would die, broken and alone. A wild chain of events raced through my head like a revolving lantern, as I sprawled on my futon trembling like a newborn fawn, thinking that I was completely screwed, until I recalled the true events of the last night, and remembered that Kaori was just a doll.

The shock of this realization finally woke me up.

Kaori had not moved an inch since last night. I greeted her with a "Good morning", brewed coffee, and grilled a leftover half-eaten fish patty for breakfast. As I ate, I unthinkingly began to converse with her.

"I know this can't be easy for you either, Kaori. It must be hard for you to live in such a cramped, dirty room with a...well, a guy like me. Ozu's such a jerk, isn't he? He's never once in his life spared a thought for someone else, and all he does is feed off other people's misery. I guess his parents didn't give him enough love during his youth… You don't say much, do you? It's a shame, such a lovely morning as this and you're just sitting there sulking. Come on, I know you've got something to say."

Of course, she didn't say a word.

I finished the fish patty and gulped down my coffee. It was a glorious weekend morning, and I certainly wasn't going to spend the day shooting the breeze with a doll. I had my own life, after all. After a few days of rain the sky had finally cleared up, and I had woken up early for once, so I decided to go out to do my laundry.

The laundromat was downtown, just a few minutes' walk away from Shimogamo Yūsuisō. I dumped my clothes into a machine and then walked out to buy a can of coffee. When I returned, the laundromat was still empty, and only my usual machine on the left was running. Basking in the glorious morning sunbeams, I drank the coffee and smoked a cigarette.

When my laundry was done, I lifted the lid of the machine and was met with an unpleasant surprise.

My favorite briefs were nowhere to be seen. In their place lay a small plush teddy bear. The bear and I glared at each other for a few moments.

How bizarre.

I would have understood if it were women's lingerie, but what was the point of stealing the grey briefs that someone like me had worn for two steadfast years? The only thing that could possibly be gained from such a deed was utter disappointment. Furthermore, the thief had left behind this cute teddy bear, further deepening the mystery. What kind of message was the thief trying to send? It was probably a hidden confession of love. But I don't need the love of someone who would steal my underwear! I want love from someone who puts my head in the clouds, someone whose daintiness and refinement are positively dream-like, a raven-haired maiden whose mind is filled only with beautiful things.

I checked the other washing machines, and even the dryers, but my underwear was nowhere to be found. I stamped my feet in frustration. It was stupid to consider reporting this to the police. I honestly didn't want to uncover the kind of person who would commit this sort of act.

I clutched the teddy bear and started making my way back home, partially because it would irk me to have to go back empty-handed. Periodically I flared up in anger, but there was nothing I could do; I let out my rage by squishing the bear between my fingers.

After the theft at the laundromat, I furiously stomped back to my room, my face puffing out like a fish patty.

During the afternoon, the blazing sun turned my room into a sauna, but as it was not yet afternoon, it was still cool. Kaori was still sitting by the bookshelf, patiently awaiting my return. Looking at her serene expression, I felt my fury begin to evaporate. Ozu claimed to have stolen her from someone; I imagined that unlucky someone must be frantically searching for her right about now. Based on her tidy appearance, he must have pampered her like a princess.

It didn't feel right, just having her sit there listlessly. I placed the copy of Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea I had bought from the Shimogamo Shrine used book fair in her lap to draw out her hidden allure. Now she looked as if she had borrowed a corner of my room to get lost in a fantasy of the high seas; a veritable intellectual, raven-haired maiden.

No one would disturb this place, though then again no one would want to enter this room in the first place.

Kaori and I were alone here. No one was here to upbraid us if we decided to fool around a little. But I courteously held back, silently commending myself for my incredible restraint. In the first place, she was here because of Ozu, and I didn't want to get caught trying anything funny and give him an excuse to gloat.

I sat at my desk and, trying to forget about the underwear thief, opened a letter I had received the previous day. The author of this letter was a female.

Readers, do not be surprised that I was partic.i.p.ating in an exchange of correspondence.

The young lady's name was Higuchi Keiko, and she lived by herself in Jōdoji. She worked in the office of an English conversation school in Shijō Kawaramachi. Her hobbies were reading and gardening; she wrote enthusiastically about the flowers she grew on her veranda. Her handwriting was exquisite, her composition impeccable.

However, I had never even met her.

Though it was very old-fashioned, I loved writing letters, and had yearned since I was a youth to have a pen pal. All the better if my partner was a young lady, though in truth, was there any other sentient life worth corresponding with other than a flowering young maiden? Such was the purity of the correspondence I so earnestly desired.

There are two rules one must abide by: one, the letters must be handwritten; and two, under no circ.u.mstances must one meet one's epistolary companion. This second point is paramount. It is of course natural as a male to be overcome with the desire to meet the young lady you are corresponding with. But this is exactly where you must practice restraint. If things go poorly, all the effort you put into cultivating this elegant relationship will have been for naught.

The idea to begin an elegant exchange of letters came to me quite out of the blue. However, finding a young lady I had never seen before to begin the correspondence with proved to be more difficult than I had expected. Sending a letter to a random address and praying that a suitable girl happens to live there is an unrefined, even degenerate act, and consulting the Kyoto branch of the j.a.pan Correspondence Society would not fit my personal aesthetic.

When I confessed my hidden desire to Ozu, he immediately branded me a pervert. "You're just trying to get off by sending some random girl nasty letters, aren't you? You really need to make sure your pen is in check, you literary exhibitionist!"

"I-I'd never do anything like—"

"Come on, I know you too well. You spend half the day trying to get off."

"Shut up!"

Quite unexpectedly, it was because of Ozu that I was able to begin my long-awaited correspondence.

In the autumn of soph.o.m.ore year, Ozu, whose literary tastes extended no further than the discolored curtain at the end of the adults-only section in a bookstore, gave me an altogether ordinary looking novel. He said he'd picked it up from the hundred-yen box at a used-book store in Imadegawa, and now that he was done with the grubby little volume he was dumping it on me.

The novel plodded through the travails of a stodgy, lovelorn student, and I was about to toss the dreary volume aside when something caught my eye. Neatly written on the last page was an address and a name. Normally, either the owner or someone at the bookstore would erase this sort of thing before the book was sold, but it looked as if they had overlooked this one.

I realized that this was my chance. This had to be some kind of divine intervention. How else would I be presented with a once-in-lifetime chance to begin a correspondence with an unseen maiden?

In retrospect, I didn't have any evidence to suggest that she was a youthful demoiselle. This was to say nothing of how I came to the conclusion that she loved books, was a little reserved, and furthermore how beautiful she was. I suppose it would be fair to call me a pervert. But I have never been one to shy away from such labels if the occasion calls for it.

I rushed out to the Demachi shopping arcade and bought stationery that was beautiful and sincere enough to compensate for the shamelessness of my acts.

I had the good sense to realize that, since this letter would be coming completely out of the blue, I would do well to limit its contents to harmless conversation. No doubt I would be reported to the police immediately if I were to introduce myself by pouring out the innermost longings of my soul. I first apologized for sending such an unexpected letter, humbly adding that I was a very diligent student, and that I had always dreamed about engaging in a correspondence of letters. Then I gave my impressions of the novel I had just finished reading, neither praising nor criticizing it, without even once mentioning anything about expecting a reply. An overly long letter would seem suspicious, so after writing draft after draft I was able to condense it into a sheet and a half. After completing it I read it over, and unable to detect even a hint of insincerity through the veneer of earnest enthusiasm, I modestly congratulated myself for writing a masterpiece. In their most pure form, letters truly are things that come from the heart.

In today's wicked society, replying to a letter from an unknown sender requires a fair amount of caution, all the more if you are a guileless young lady. I willed myself not to be disappointed if a reply never came, but to my great delight one did.

Thus, from this almost suspiciously fortunate series of events, a correspondence that would span half a year began. It would end in May, in utter heartbreak.

Dear Sir,

__

With the end of the Aoi Festival, the weather seems to have taken a humid turn. It feels as if we have entered the dog days of summer, though the rainy season has yet to begin.

Since I am not fond of such sweltering conditions, I do hope the rain comes quickly. There are many people who say that the rainy season is dreary and damp, but I find the rea.s.suring patter of raindrops outside rather soothing. My grandparents have a number of hydrangeas at their home, and since I was a child I have always enjoyed whiling away the hours watching them bloom from the veranda.

On your recommendation, I have begun to read "Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea", and have reached the third section. I had once thought it a children's book, but it is quite a profound novel. I find the aura of mystery around Captain Nemo quite intriguing, but if I had to say, my favorite character is the harpoonist, Ned Land. I pity him, being locked up in the submarine without the freedom to move around. The Professor and Conseil are subjected to the same conditions, but they seem to be enjoying themselves; only Ned Land seems to be frustrated with the situation, and before long I found myself rooting for him. Or perhaps, it is because I am as much a glutton as he.

If I might be so bold as to make a recommendation of my own, may I suggest R.L. Stevenson's "Treasure Island"? You may have already read it, but it was one of my favorites as a child.

My work has been quite ordinary, with nothing in particular to speak of.

Recently, a professor who lived here in j.a.pan for three years returned to his home country, and his farewell party was held at an Irish pub on Oike Street. I am currently not of age to drink alcohol, but the Irish food they had was quite delicious. The fried fish in particular was very good.

The professor was from San Francisco, and he told us that if we ever went to that city we were welcome to visit him. He is in his mid-thirties, but is apparently returning to college. I have always dreamed of studying abroad, but with how busy I find myself presently, it does not seem that that will come to pa.s.s.

I apologize if I overstep myself in saying this, but I feel that being able to study whatsoever you please in college is a marvelous thing. I am certain one such as yourself will use the many opportunities you are blessed with to better yourself. As you continue on and face further trials and tribulations in your third year of college this spring, I encourage you to believe in yourself and do your best.

However, as your wellbeing is of utmost importance, please do not overexert yourself.

You said that you enjoy eating fish patties, but please ensure that you are eating a balanced diet, and do take care of yourself properly.

On that note I shall bring this letter to a close. I humbly await your reply.

__

Yours Sincerely,

Higuchi Keiko

As the afternoon wore on, my room became progressively muggier. The hotter it became, the more irritated I became, and my fury at the laundromat underwear thief boiled up again. From my corner of the room I stared at Kaori, who was enthralled in her book, and squashed the plush bear which had been switched for my underpants.

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 the 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. Even if I were to be clad in only a pair of underpants, I must always act in a manner befitting a gentleman. After rubbing the sleep out of their eyes, I promptly chased them out.

I flopped down, and, still tired from getting up so early, fell asleep before I knew it. By the time I started awake, the sun had almost set, and my day off had almost completely gone to waste. The only way I could salvage the day was by going to English conversation cla.s.s, and that was drawing near. I made ready to leave my room.

Because of the suffering I had experienced in Honwaka, I was skeptical at the prospect of partic.i.p.ating in circles again. Of course, that left me with plenty of time on my hands. Miss Higuchi had mentioned that she worked in an English conversation school, and inspired by her letter, last fall I had begun to attend an English school in Kawaramachi Sanjō. Incidentally, there were no women by the name of Higuchi working at the school I attended.

"I'm going out, Kaori. Look after things while I'm away."

She seemed engrossed in her book and didn't even look up. The visage of a maiden lost in the fantasy world of books was truly a lovely thing to behold.

I rode away from Shimogamo Yūsuisō on my bicycle.

Dusk was settling over the city, and the sky above the wispy clouds was tinged with pink. A chilly evening breeze was blowing.

I biked past Shimogamo Shrine, leaving the shrine road and crossing Mikage Street. After that I rode into the area between Kawai Bridge and Demachi Bridge. From the west flows the Kamogawa River, and from the east, the Takano River. They merge at this spot, commonly known as the Kamo Delta. At this time of year, the area bustled with welcoming parties for new college students. I, too, came here as a freshman after I entered the peculiar Honwaka softball circle, but I was unable to join in on the conversations, and spent the entire night skipping stones across the river by myself.

As I rode atop the cool embankments along the west bank between Demachi Bridge and Great Kamo Bridge, I let my self-flagellating side get the best of me and turned to look at the merry students on the other side of the river. I spotted Ozu mingling in a crowd of animatedly chatting youths; there was no way to mistake his ominous silhouette. My bike came to a screeching halt.

Ozu appeared to be living it up in the middle of a group of freshmen from his circle, blissfully unaware of just how horribly wasted my day had been. The difference between my side of the river and his was like night and day. It was a dark day indeed when such innocent, untainted freshman flocked to that filthy youkai of a man. There was no stopping the spread of his corruption.

I sat there glaring for a while, but, feeling an unsatisfied gurgle from my stomach, I pulled myself together and began pedaling once again.

By the time I got out of cla.s.s, night had fallen.

I stopped by Sanjō Kiyamachi to slurp up a bowl of Nagahama ramen, then continued down Kiyamachi Street. As I walked I thought of Ozu, feeling a leaden weight descend down upon the ramen in my stomach. For the last two years, he had been at the center of my limited social circle, constantly disturbing the peace of my 4½-tatami existence. Who else would be selfish enough to barge in in the middle of the night, force a love doll on me, and vanish as quickly as he had came? The real problem though, was that he was even now corrupting my once-pure soul. The more I interacted with him, the blacker my own heart became. I could practically feel my mind warping with every second we spent together

I continued to wander aimlessly along the Takase River, smoldering with resentment.

At last my feet came to a halt.

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 cultish Honwaka softball circle, nor met the twisted Ozu. 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, even 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, paid the fee, and turned around to find a woman standing behind me.

"A little lost lamb, are we?" Hanuki said.

Hanuki is in the same English cla.s.s as I am. We had been acquaintances since I joined the cla.s.s during the previous fall, six months ago, but our relationship extended no further than the cla.s.sroom door. I had tried many times to acquire her transcendental skills, but each attempt had ended in failure.

Hanuki speaks an exceedingly free-flowing, almost nonsensical sort of English. The rapid-fire words she spits out dance freely in the air, and despite her atrocious grammar, transcend the normal rules to connect and organize themselves into meaning in the recipient's head. It's practically magic. On the other hand, while I carefully polish my choice of words inside my head the conversation moves on without me, so that by the time I'm ready to release my grand proclamations to the world it's already too late. This pattern repeated itself endlessly. If I must speak without perfect grammar, I will proudly choose to be a silent observer, forever looking on and never leaping.

From what I had gathered during the cla.s.sroom self-introductions, Hanuki worked at a dental clinic. During cla.s.s, we gave speeches about whatever topics we wished, but Hanuki usually pontificated on teeth. Over the past six months alone, her dental vocabulary had grown at an alarming rate, and correspondingly the dental IQ of the rest of the cla.s.s had risen several points, which was certainly not a bad thing.

I invariably chose to speak about Ozu's misdeeds, since he compromised the entirety of my social network. I was initially reticent to speak of his foul crimes in such a cosmopolitan forum, but my cla.s.smates gave my halting words an unexpectedly warm welcome. And so, "OZU NEWS" became a staple of the cla.s.s each week. They were probably just interested in listening to gossip.

After a few weeks of this, Hanuki called out to me one day after cla.s.s. Astonishingly, it turned out that Ozu was one of her acquaintances. He was a patient at the dental clinic where she worked, and the "Master" upon whom Ozu frequently called was also an old friend of hers.

"Small world, huh?," she commented.

We began to complain about Ozu's shifty personality, and soon hit it off with each other.

After b.u.mping into each other in front of the fortune teller, Hanuki and I headed into one of the many bars in Kiyamachi.

It seemed that she had made plans to meet someone in Kiyamachi after cla.s.s ended, but was suddenly overcome with a wave for revulsion for the person she was supposed to meet, but she still wanted to drink, even though she didn't want to run into this person, but she still really wanted to drink—until as she walked along debating, she spotted my lost figure there in the street. "Lucky me, lucky me," she sang as she skipped down the avenue.

The bars were all packed since it was the weekend. Of course, there were always plenty of students, but this weekend was especially busy, since there were parties being thrown to welcome new students. Here and there I glimpsed faces that looked so young they could only have been in high school a few days prior.

We raised a gla.s.s to a bleak future for Ozu. Among the countless seeds of gossip that exist in the world, Ozu was particularly good as a conversation starter because there was no end of things to complain about when it came to him.

"He's always s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g things up for me."

"I know, right? That's his favorite thing to do."

"The only reason he exists is to mess with other people's lives."

"Yeah, but he always keeps his own life on the down low."

"Yeah, yeah. I don't even know where he lives. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d is always inviting himself into my place, but whenever I ask him he just won't tell me."

"Actually, I've been there before."

"Really?"

"Yeah. He lives in a studio in Jōdoji, like a little bit off Shirakawa Street in a building that looks like it's made out of candy. Ozu gets a pretty generous allowance, you know. I feel sorry for his parents."

"G.o.d, he p.i.s.ses me off…"

"But aren't you his best friend?" she asked, giggling. "He always talks about you."

"What does he say?" I cautiously asked, dimly imagining Ozu with that inscrutable smile of his. There was a chance that he had whispered some poisonous alternative facts into Hanuki's ear, and I had to firmly clear those up.

"A lot of things. Something about you two leaving the same weird circle together."

"Ah."

That part, at least, was true.

Honwaka, the circle I had stumbled into, was, like the name sounded, as snug and cozy as a cloud floating in a hazy spring sky. Upper- and lower cla.s.smen alike addressed each other with the utmost familiarity, and there was no distinction of rank or t.i.tle. There were no leaders or followers, no hatred or sorrow. Everyone built a communal atmosphere of love, helping and cooperating with each other as if they were tossing little white b.a.l.l.s back and forth. It was the type of place that, in no more than a week, would have you flipping tables to break the monotonous pleasantness.

On weekends the circle would reserve a field to toss a ball around, and thus all I did was go to communal lunches and tedious excursions as the weeks plodded on from May to June to July . How could I possibly learn the nuances of sociability in such an insipid place? It was impossible. My patience was soon stretched to its limits.

No matter how much time I spent there, I never felt like I fit in. Everyone was always smiling, making polite conversation, refraining from disagreement, never once allowing anything that could be considered profane or crude to pa.s.s their lips. Each person's demeanor was so alike to the next that it was impossible to distinguish one from another, or to match names to faces. Whenever I tried to say something, everyone would paste a kind smile on their faces and sink into silence.

The single person with whom I could feel any sort of kinship was Ozu. He had managed to obtain a place in the circle with his curious conversational dexterity, but despite his best efforts he couldn't pull off an innocent-looking smile; each time he tried to do so, he only succeeded in looking more like a youkai, as if he couldn't quite hide the evil lurking within himself. His was the only name in the circle that I could remember, or rather, the only one I couldn't forget.

That summer, we went to a forest on the Kyoto-Osaka prefectural border for a three-day trip. Softball practice was merely a pretext: in reality, it was just another friendly bonding session. Considering how cloyingly amiable the atmosphere in the circle already was, I hardly saw the need for another feel-good k.u.mbaya campout.

But on the second night, after a meeting in the outdoor recreation center we were staying in, one of the uppercla.s.smen introduced a strange middle-aged man whom I had never seen before. It was quite unexpected. He was a chubby man with fat marshmallow cheeks, and his spectacles were so minuscule that they were almost buried in his face.

The man began to speak, about love, and the ills of the modern age, and the coming battles we would have to fight, delivering each thundering line with great zeal. His vague, overbearing speech went on and on, but it was impossible to extract any meaning from his words. "Who the h.e.l.l is this?" I wondered, taking a look around me, but everyone else was sitting there listening to his words with rapt adoration on their faces. Only Ozu, who was off to the side in front of me, sat there yawning.

After a while the man began to point out individual circle members, who stood up and began talking about themselves. Some of them spoke about personal troubles, while others gushed about how grateful they were to be in the circle, how lucky they were to have been invited. One girl even started weeping; the fat man consoled her in a very indulgent tone. "There's nothing wrong with you. I believe in you, and everyone else here does too."

At the chubby man's urging, Ozu got to his feet.

"You know, after I entered college I was so unsure of myself, but thanks to entering this circle, I feel like I've been able to adapt much better. Being with everyone here feels like home to me. It's truly an amazing thing," he said earnestly, as if his earlier yawning had been nothing but a sham.

"And then what happened?" Hanuki pressed me. A note of petulance had crept into her voice, no doubt due to the alcohol she had just imbibed.

"When they asked me, I tried to sound enthusiastic, but the fat man said he would be coming by my room for a chat, so I thought I'd stepped in it. So instead of going back to my room I waited in the bathroom until the lobby was empty, and and then I went outside."

"Ah, and then you met Ozu, didn't you?"

"That's right."

As I snuck out the front entrance of the recreation center, Ozu's form loomed from the darkness like a primordial spirit that had lain dormant for many centuries in the forest. I soon realized that it was Ozu, but didn't let my guard down, convinced that he was an agent dispatched by Honwaka, intent on trussing me up and delivering me to the fat man. Perhaps they intended to throw me into a fetid underground torture chamber and make me relive my first love in high school, as well as all the rest of my deepest, most embarra.s.sing secrets. If so, they would quickly find I would not go down without a fight.

"Quickly!" Ozu hissed as I glared at him. "You're running away, right? Let me come with you!"

And so, we reluctantly joined forces and slipped into the murky forest.

The road from the recreation center down to the village at the bottom of the mountain was pitch black, but luckily Ozu had brought along a flashlight. I had to admit that he always came prepared. I had left my bag back in my room, but I hadn't packed anything too important anyway. Each time a car came our way we fled into the trees, waiting with bated breath until the lights receded into the distance.

"Well, that sounds like quite the adventure!" Hanuki exclaimed, sounding overly amazed.

"Well, maybe. We probably could have just stayed the night without too much trouble."

"But wasn't it a cult?"

"Well, yeah. They called me once after that, but I haven't heard anything from them since. I guess they weren't too interested in me."

"Maybe. What happened after you got off the mountain?"

"Well, we reached the farms at the bottom and crossed through the fields. We thought we might be able to hitch a ride from someone on the highway, but since it was the middle of the night there weren't a lot of cars and they wouldn't stop anyways. If I saw two weirdos trying to hitchhike on the side of the road, I wouldn't stop either."

"Mm, that sucks."

"Anyways, we kept walking, and reached the nearest rail station by following the signs. It was really far, since we were in the countryside. It was around four in the morning by the time we got there, but we were so paranoid that they would send someone there to search for us that we followed the tracks to the next station to throw them off. It was like the train scene from Stand By Me. When we got to the station we got some canned coffee and chilled for a while, then boarded the first train back here."

"That's must have been exhausting!"

"I slept like a log on the train. I couldn't take another step."

"And that's how you and Ozu became friends?"

"No, I wouldn't call it a friendship, per se."

She t.i.ttered. "You know, Ozu is surprisingly innocent in some ways."

"Yeah, well, I've got some magic beans to sell you..."

"No, I'm serious! Haven't you heard the story about his girlfriend?"

In disbelief, I unconsciously leaned forward.

"His…his girlfriend?"

"Yeah. He met her in the movie circle back when he was a freshman. The Master hasn't seen her, and I haven't either. I think he doesn't want her to see his other side. It's kind of messed up, but somehow I think it's adorable. He even came to me for relationship advice once."

"That rat…"

Hanuki smirked, watching me quiver with anger.

"What was her name again? I can't remember..."

Next, we headed to one of Hanuki's favorite haunts, a bar called Moonwalk in Pontochō. The more we gossiped about Ozu, the more we opened up to each other. Speaking ill of a third party who isn't present has the odd effect of creating a feeling of intimacy.

The conversation eventually turned to the theft at the laundromat.

"Someone must really have wanted your underpants," she cackled, shaking her head.

"But you don't understand, losing this much underwear sucks!"

The night was wearing on, yet Hanuki showed no signs of tiring. I was beginning to feel fatigued from the unrelenting noise of a night on the town, and the alcohol was beginning to take its toll. As Hanuki's eyes began to gleam with a dangerous, intoxicated light, I started to yearn for my 4½-tatami room. I wanted to go home, forget about all my troubles, and curl up in my futon with some stimulating reading material.

But things just weren't going my way.

Since we lived close to each other, we decided to share a taxi home. Hanuki's eyes glowed ever brighter, and I began to fear that I had lost control of the situation. As the lights of the city darted by outside the window, she sighed heavily and looked in my direction, as if she were regarding her prey.

Her apartment was on Kawabata Street, near Mikage Bridge. I guided her unsteady feet all the way up to her door, at which point she invited me in for some tea. By that time, I had lost track of who I was,, where I had come from, or where I was going. Feeling utter hopelessness at the thought of being trapped forever by myself within the flow of eternity, I stood there trembling, like an abandoned cat in the rain.

From the moment I pa.s.sed over the cursed threshold of p.u.b.erty, my Johnny had remained in a constant state of misery. Other guys' Johnnies were probably free to move as they pleased, unconcerned with appearances. However, possessed as he was with a master like myself, my Johnny was forced to cover up his true potential, unable to indulge in his naughtier compulsions. Discretion is indeed the better part of valor, yet a Johnny as vigorous as mine couldn't be satisfied with such a hollow existence forever. Whenever he sensed an opportunity, he would raise his head haughtily and try to rea.s.sert himself.

"Hey brah, isn't this where I come in?" he clamored.

Each time he raised his voice, I reproached him, "The opportunity isn't here yet", and ordered him to stay put. We are civilized people living in a modern age, and I am a gentleman with many matters to attend to. I did my best to convince him that I didn't have time to let him fool around with women because I was working towards giving him a permanent home in which to play to his heart's content.

"So when's this f.u.c.king 'opportunity' gonna come?" he grumbled. "Don't condescend to me, bro."

"Don't be like that. It's not my fault I have to look down on you, you know."

"So you're saying you'd rather think with your brain instead of with me. s.h.i.t, being a brain must be nice."

"Stop sulking, it's embarra.s.sing."

"Hmph. I guess nothing comes to those who wait, huh?" he muttered, falling down limply.

It wasn't like I didn't understand how he felt, and it was heart wrenching to see him with no light at the end of his tunnel. The louder he howled, the more I realized how similar we were, lone wolves doomed to a life of solitude. My sympathy for him increased all the more, and as I thought about how his talents were being wasted on mere daydreams and fantasies, I often found it difficult not to shed a tear.

"Don't cry," he would say. "I'm sorry. I was being selfish."

"Sorry," I would mutter.

And so, Johnny and I would make our peace.

That is, I daresay, an accurate representation of my youth.

Hanuki's room was very tidy, and the furnishings were surprisingly spa.r.s.e. It felt like she could easily pack up and move anywhere at a moment's notice, something that made me a little envious. It was so different from my own room, filled with chaos and bedlam.

"Sorry, I think I had a little too much to drink," Hanuki laughed, taking out some herbal tea and putting on the water to boil. That mysterious glint was still in her eye. While I wasn't looking, she had taken off her coat and was wearing a simple long-sleeved shirt. When did that happen? I wondered.

She opened the gla.s.s door to the veranda; from our position overlooking Kawabata Street, I could see the trees lining the Takano River.

"It's so nice here, by the river. The cars are kind of noisy though," she commented. "If you climb up to the roof, you can see Daimonji to the east."

However, at that moment, Daimonji was the furthest thing from my mind.

Finding myself alone with a woman sipping tea in her room, I realized that I would need to navigate carefully in order to come out of this clichéd predicament with my gentleman's honor intact. You could almost hear a slight revving sound as my brain went into overdrive, poring through my internal databank of history, physics, psychology, biochemistry, literature, and even pseudoscience to find an appropriate response. I thought if Ozu were here, there would be no need for all this tension, and everything could proceed normally.

Even so, Hanuki was being far too careless.

It was incredibly risky for her to bring me to her room this late at night. Certainly, I had been her cla.s.smate in English school for half a year now. I was also the "best friend" of Ozu, whom she was also acquainted with. But anyone with an ounce of common sense wouldn't have felt safe until they had trussed me up like a turtle, hung me upside down from the balcony, and lit a slow fire underneath me. While I fretted for her safety, she blithely started chatting about the person she was supposed to meet tonight.

I was surprised to hear that her drinking partner was originally going to be none other than Dr. Kubozuka from the dental clinic, and even more surprised to learn that the good doctor already had a wife and kids. In my eyes it was unforgivable for such a person to abuse his position and arrange for a tryst with another woman, but since Hanuki had been working for him for a long time, I decided that a scurrilous youngster such as myself couldn't understand the nuances of a relationship between two consenting adults. Though I resolved not to volunteer anything on this topic that could be taken the wrong way, she continued to talk about him, and eventually asked for my advice.

"I guess standing him up in Kiyamachi was kind of a s.h.i.tty thing to do," she fretted.

As I lapsed into silence, Hanuki sidled up to me. "Why so tense?"

"I-I've always been like this."

"Liar. Those wrinkles weren't there just a minute ago," she crooned, leaning up to my forehead.

Then, she tried to lick my face.

I jerked back, completely astonished. But her eyes were burning with a strange light, and she grabbed hold of me once more.

At that moment, I noticed four things about the situation.

Number one: the soft swellings on Hanuki's bosom were pushing up against me. I attempted to deal with this situation calmly, but, as one might expect, it was exceedingly difficult. I despised the ability of those feminine curves to completely confound us men: for many years I had conducted extensive visual research on this matter, but had yet to provide a satisfactory answer as to why such curves, whose only redeeming feature was their softness, wielded such power over us. Faced with the power of Hanuki's b.r.e.a.s.t.s, I had to admit that I was aroused by the situation, but I had no intention of letting these mere protrusions of flesh ruin the purity I had spent so many years protecting. To do so would be unforgivable.

Number two: as I leaned my head back to escape Hanuki's probing tongue, I noticed a bulletin board covered in photographs on the wall above me. My attention was drawn to one photo in particular, which seemed to have been taken during a trip abroad in Italy. Pictured was the Colosseum, and in spite of the situation I currently faced, the fortune teller's words flashed through my mind. Was the opportunity I was looking for right in front of me?

Number three: having glimpsed the goods within his grasp, Johnny had reared his head again and was attempting to a.s.sert his dominance. "It's my time, brah!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. I tried to control him, but he shouted, "If this ain't your chance, what the f.u.c.k is!?" which I had to admit was a fair point. "I've waited long enough. It's my time to shine!"

Number four: along the left wall, through the kitchen, was a bathroom. If I could make it in there, it would be an excellent place in which to regain my composure and weather the storm.

Hanuki kept wrapping herself around me, trying to lick my face.

While my mind was whipping itself this way and that, Johnny kept wriggling around restlessly, trying to make his way to where the action was. Having marshalled every ounce of l.u.s.t in my body, he was leading his followers to try to take control. While general headquarters was still holding out, Johnny's faction was pounding on the door.

"What are you doing?"

"This is your chance!"

"This isn't what we were promised!"

Deep within headquarters, I stoically blocked out their cries and contemplated the campaign map in front of me. "Can you really call someone who lets himself be washed away by these fleeting desires a civilized person?" I brooded. "Where is my pride if I take advantage of an intoxicated woman like this? I don't even know her that well!"

In response to my solemn remonstrations, Johnny raised his fist to the skies and began to pound furiously on the iron gates of my headquarters. "You gotta do something!!" he screamed. "Don't you understand how important that first step is?! If you can't do it, then let me take over!"

"What's the point of just acting? Preserving my honor is the most important act of all," I replied. Johnny decided to change tack, adopting a pleading tone.

"Come on, what kind of dude gets so obsessed about his chast.i.ty? What, you think someone's gonna give you a medal for being a virgin? You could open up a whole new world by doing this, man. Don't you want to see what's on the other side?"

"I do. But now isn't the time."

"f.u.c.k the time, dude, this is it! The Colosseum was right there! It's just like that old woman said, isn't it?"

"Whether or not I should take that chance is up to me. You have no right to make that decision."

"Ughhhh. Dude, I'm so sad. I'm so sad, dude..."

Steeling my resolve, I inched along the wall, trying to escape from Hanuki, who was still clinging to me. We shuffled along the floor like some exotic animal, slowly crossing the room and slithering into the kitchen.

"Look, a c.o.c.kroach!" I cried. Hanuki jumped and whirled around, and taking advantage of her momentary distraction I stood up and sprinted into the bathroom, slamming the lock home. Though this was meant to protect my honor, it sure didn't look that way.

From within me, Johnny let out an anguished howl.

"What's wrong? Not feeling well?" Hanuki airily asked from the other side of the door.

"I'm fine, I'll just be a second," I answered, straining my ears. After a while, I heard her return to the living room.

Secure on my throne, I thought about the three women swirling around me. One was a yet-unseen pen pal, another was a silent love doll, and the third was this inebriated woman who was trying to lick my face.

On the other hand, during the last two years I had spent on the sidelines, I had never experienced anything as sensational as this. Oh, this sugar-coated life. Perhaps, the winds of change had begun to blow when Ozu brought Kaori to my room. From now on, my life would be filled with rendezvous with the fairer s.e.x, my calendar packed with appointments for lovers' trysts, and my throat cracked and bleeding from hours upon hours of whispering sweet nothings. Even just thinking about it was tiring. I started to lose my nerve, and the prospect began to seem more like an arduous trek up Mount Hiei.

If I didn't plan on becoming a maven of the s.e.xual arts, I would need to narrow it down to one.

Among the three women, one of them was a silent maiden, and even I had to admit she was not a contender. Another, according to my philosophy of correspondence, I would never be able to meet. This, of course, left only Hanuki.

Just as the fortune teller had predicted, I had seen a picture of the Colosseum right here. There had to be a deeper meaning to this, deeper than the act of surrendering control of the lower half of my body, as Johnny was insisting I do. It was precisely because this could be my opportunity that I would wait here, protecting my gentlemanly precepts, until Hanuki returned to her senses. From there, I would use the proper channels to reopen negotiations for our consensual union.

Even if she was drunk, she wouldn't try to lick the face of someone she was totally uninterested in. Considering how eccentric she was, it wasn't surprising that she would show interest in someone like me, even if it was only idle curiosity. Here and now, I would get a fresh start, grab hold of this opportunity, and set off towards a shining golden future. I had faith in my own untapped potential; it was merely forgotten, not lost.

Composing myself, I waited until Johnny calmed down, then exited the bathroom, to find Hanuki face down in the center of the room, snoring like a pair of bellows. I decided to wait until she woke, and sat down beside her.

Despite my best efforts to stay awake I began to doze off, probably because of the alcohol. I had been leaning against the wall, but at some point slumped to the floor.

I finally woke up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes with a slight sense of unease, to find a demon sitting primly in front of me.

Once I had overcome the urge to jump up and shriek, I took another look and realized that it was Ozu. How strange. I was sure that I had been in Hanuki's room, yet here he sat before me. Perhaps Ozu had been hiding inside the sh.e.l.l of Hanuki the Dental Hygienist the entire time. Then, that would mean that I had been getting licked by Ozu-Hanuki, and was about to begin negotiations for an unholy union with this vile hybrid?

"Why the h.e.l.l are you here?" I finally said.

Ozu brushed an imaginary speck of dust off his head.

"I was called away just as things were heating up with my precious undercla.s.smen. I even had to call a taxi, here. Have some consideration, please."

I had no clue what he was talking about.

"What I mean is, Hanuki is a dear friend of my Master, but she has a single weakness. When she gets drunk, the wheels tend to come off, if you catch my drift."

"What's that mean?"

"It appears that you were licked?"

"That is...correct."

"Usually she behaves herself, but it looks she had a little too much fun with you tonight. She'd like you to consider what happened tonight water under the bridge."

"Huh?"

I was dumbfounded.

"She would like me to convey her apologies to you, though it's a little late for that."

As if to protest his words, a loud retching sound came from inside the bathroom. It seemed that Hanuki was barricaded in there paying the price for her earlier overindulgence.

"So why are you here?"

"She asked me to come here and explain everything to you on her behalf. I could hardly leave one of the Master's oldest friends in a bind."

I had seen Hanuki licking my face as a turning point in my life, but now that the jig was up, I felt pretty foolish. I privately thanked my lucky stars that I hadn't lost my senses and done anything rash Still, it was irksome to think that Ozu was the one to douse me with a cold splash of reality.

"You didn't try anything funny, did you?" he asked.

"Nothing. Just…getting my face licked."

"Yeah, I wouldn't expect much out of you. You probably freaked out and locked yourself in the bathroom as soon as she came at you, didn't you?"

"Of course I didn't. I made sure she was okay, like a gentleman."

"Oh, I'm sure you did."

"Jacka.s.s...."

"Now, now, don't judge her too harshly. She's getting her just deserts with Mr. Toilet."

"I mean you! You're the jacka.s.s!"

"Please don't get me mixed up in this."

"Every time something bad happens to me, you're almost always there. You miserable pest!"

"Always the ray of sunshine. Why do you think I extricated myself from a lovely little banquet to come all the way over here? It's because I felt it was my duty as a friend to comfort you in your hour of need."

"I don't need your pity. You're the reason I'm even in this mess!"

"Most people would be embarra.s.sed to even say something like that, but you almost sound like you actually believe it!"

"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."

"You're still drunk, aren't you?"

"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.

"Anyways, you've been going out with someone for two years, haven't you? On the mark, aren't I?" I cried triumphantly.

An odd smirk came to his face, accompanied by a soft chuckle.

"What's so funny?" I demanded.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"I can't believe a jagoff like you gets to run around having fun behind my back."

"Calm down, we're getting a little off-topic, aren't we? Just pretend tonight never happened, and accept this."

He pointed to a small package.

"What's that?"

"A castella. Consider it a token of apology from Hanuki, with humblest regards," he said unctuously, like a sales clerk plotting to take over the store.

Light was creeping over the horizon as I walked through town.

There was a desolate morning-after atmosphere lingering in the empty streets, and the morning chill nipped at my skin. I stood in the middle of Mikage Bridge, hugging myself to stay warm, and looked at the greenery covering both banks of the Takano River. It felt refreshing, being able to view such a pleasant morning scene for once, and it was only with a heavy heart that I returned to Shimogamo Yūsuisō. Everything felt just a little bit drearier—the broken fluorescent light in the entrance hall, the wooden shoe rack, the dust-filled corridors.

With leaden footsteps I shambled through the chilly hallways to my room and collapsed into my still-disheveled bed. In the warmth under the covers of my futon, I thought back on the many events that had transpired over the course of the previous day. It was most upsetting that Ozu had turned up at the very end, jolting me awake from my fleeting dreams of a future with Hanuki before the dawn had even arrived, but I supposed this merely signified a return to square one in the Game of Love. Such a commonplace event was hardly worth fretting about. A wounded pride was a small price to pay for an entire castella. I would be patient.

But I couldn't take it.

I couldn't fill the hole in my heart.

From under the sheets, I snuck a glance at my silent roommate. As usual, Kaori was resting against the bookshelf, serenely reading Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. I got up and caressed her hair. It felt as if I was cuddling a real raven-haired maiden lost in her book, and a sudden wave of consternation came over me.

"You idiot…" I muttered to myself, and retreated back into the futon.

It was pathetic that I had deluded myself into thinking that I lived in the days of wine and roses. Perhaps, if I had trusted the fortune teller's prophecy and let Johnny's urges come to a head with the intoxicated Hanuki, a new life might actually have opened itself up to me. No, that could not be. I refused to accept it. Relations between men and women should be conducted in a formal manner, not tied together on a whim like a shoelace.

I had thought that everything had started to change once Ozu brought Kaori here, but of the three women revolving around me, Hanuki had suddenly dropped out of the running; that dream had lasted no more than half a day. That left my pen pal, whom I could never meet, and the woman who lived with me and yet was not alive.

In other words, there was no one left.

I would face this cold reality unflinchingly. As long as I put my mind to it, I could accomplish anything.

While I lay there in my futon, gazing at Kaori, Johnny gave a sudden squirm, but I closed my eyes and fell into merciful oblivion.

I woke up at dusk and walked to a café near Demachi to have my dinner.

As I pa.s.sed the Kamo Delta, the setting sun clearly illuminated the Daimonji character; this area would be an excellent vantage point from which to view the bonfire. I stood there, imagining what it would be like to see the fires with Miss Higuchi Keiko, but discouraged by the cold evening wind and a soft growl from my stomach, I reluctantly broke the daydreams off at a good spot.

After I went back to Shimogamo Yūsuisō, I sat at my desk and concentrated on writing a reply to Miss Higuchi, seeking refuge from the restless thoughts buzzing around my head.

Dear Miss Higuchi,

__

Summer seems to have come early this year, as this sweltering weather seems to continue without end. The air is close in my boarding house, making it intolerably hot. Sometimes I feel like stringing up a hammock in the corridor, but I can't quite bring myself to go that far. It is quite difficult, not being able to study in the dormitory until summer ends. Soon enough I think I will find myself spending a lot of time in the library. There will be few distractions there, so I hope that I will be able to be very productive.

I'm glad that you are enjoying "Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea". When I was reading it, I had a world map by my side to track the journey of the Nautilus in the book. Doing that made me feel almost as if I was also embarking on a nautical voyage around the world; I recommend that you try it for yourself. I have not yet read Stevenson's "Treasure Island"—I shall look for it in a bookstore. The balance in cla.s.sic adventure novels is quite superb: sometimes you're on the edge of your seat, while at other times you feel utterly relaxed as you flip through the pages. Though they are adventures they're not too b.l.o.o.d.y, which is something that I can appreciate.

I'm not sure exactly what Irish pubs are like, though I hope to visit one someday. Since I spend so much time either at school or at home, I have had but few chances to go out into town as of late.

Since spring semester began, I have been very busy going to labs and lectures. From the outside, my schedule might look demanding, but I find each day actually quite fulfilling. The world of science is a wonderful place. When Jules Verne was writing his novels in the 19th century, he couldn't possibly have imagined how far we would come. I must say that I regret that the mountains of knowledge have grown so tall that is impossible to climb them all. However, it is precisely this to which we owe the luxuries of our modern lives, so I mustn't be so cynical.

As you previously wrote, I am making the most of the opportunities that I have been blessed with, and seeking to improve myself in any way I can. Of course, my health is very important, and I try to get exercise at every opportunity. I put care into planning my nutrition as well.

I would like to clear up the misconception that has arisen regarding my diet, in particular regarding fish patties, which I certainly do not subsist on every day. On the contrary, I am the sort of man who would not balk even at eating bowls of aloe yogurt if need be.

I am sure you are quite busy yourself, but please accept my best wishes for your health.

__

Sincerely Yours,

I nodded with satisfaction and put down my pen.

There were a few embellishments here and there, but all in all, it was a tasteful piece of work. Even when the words I was writing were less than sincere, I came to believe in them as I put pen to paper. While I wrote, I was transfigured into a model student, but no sooner had the ink dried that I reverted back to my old, uncultured self, like waking from a dream. Remembering who I really was was painful; how brazen, even for me, to write things like, "I seek to improve myself". Though I had the will to do so, the path was shrouded in darkness. How exactly was I to improve myself? I couldn't shake the feeling that I was only building up the parts of myself that no one wanted to see.

I placed the finished letter into an envelope, then reread Miss Higuchi's letter.

She mentioned that she enjoyed the rainy season, and looking at hydrangeas through the raindrops. She felt sorry for the harpoonist in Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, being locked up inside the submarine. And she asked me to take care of myself. Me!

I wondered what kind of person she was.

Though I had written the letter to distract myself, how ironic it was that now my heart ached all the more. I pressed her letter to my chest and heaved a sigh. It was a revolting display, even for me, and I quickly snapped back to reality to reality.

I absentmindedly stroked the teddy bear I had picked up at the laundromat yesterday, feeling oddly comforted by its softness. I was becoming quite fond of this cute little bear, so I decided to give it a name. After about five minutes of thought, because it was so soft, I decided to name it Mochiguma.

That night, Ozu came to visit, rudely demanding to know whether I had fooled around with Kaori.

"So when are you going to get this thing out of my room?"

"Soon, soon," he grinned. "Are you sure you're not secretly enjoying living with her? Look, you even gave her Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea to read."

"Shut up, shut up right now. I don't want you to ever open your mouth again."

"Well that's not very nice. If I couldn't make a little chit-chat, then I'd be so lonely I'd die."

"That's the idea."

"On the flipside, as long as I can flap my tongue, I won't die, even if you kill me."

He went on to talk for a very long time about a magic kamenoko brush which used the Van der Waals force to bind dirt to the innumerable firm, incredibly fine bristle tips at the molecular level, effortlessly lifting off any sort of dirt or grime. His Master had charged him with finding this thing.

"That's stupid, there's no way that thing exists!"

"No, I a.s.sure you that it does. I'm not surprised you've never heard of it. Apparently it was so effective that all the detergent makers lobbied against it, so it's never been sold widely. Anyway, if I don't find it…"

"You sure are wasting a lot of time and effort on this nonsense."

"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."

Ozu sounded strangely cheerful as he said this.

"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, what room does your Master live in?"

"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.

"Get out of here. I've got things to do."

"All right, I'm leaving. I'm going to the master's place for blind hotpot tonight anyway." He held up a plastic bag filled with ingredients.

As he turned to leave, his eyes fell upon the teddy bear sitting next to my TV. He picked it up and gently squeezed it.

"What's an adorable thing like this doing in your room?"

"I found it."

"Can I have it?"

"Why?"

"I want to try putting it in the hotpot tonight."

"Are you stupid? You can't eat that."

"Well, it'll be dark, so maybe someone will mistake it for a bit of mochi and put it in their mouth."

"Not everyone's as dumb as you."

"If you don't give it to me, I might spill some water again upstairs. I wonder what'll happen to all the precious magazines in your closet?"

"Fine, fine, take it!" I shouted. It was heart wrenching, having one of the few comforts in my life taken away, but I just wanted to get Ozu out of my room.

"Heheheh. Thank you very much. Don't go messing around with Kaori now."

"Shut up and leave!"

After he left, I suddenly felt very tired. I prayed to the G.o.d of Shimogamo Shrine that Ozu might choke and die on that teddy bear.

After spending the next day buried in lectures and labs, I went to Café Collection for a dinner of mentaiko spaghetti. Afterwards I walked along Imadegawa Street and watched as the budding trees on Mt. Yoshida sparkled like gold underneath the setting sun.

Ahh.

I tottered off down the road towards Ginkakuji.

Intrusive thoughts are a very real thing. Due to Kaori's perpetual presence in my room, as well as Hanuki's aggressive advances, the shackles around my heart had loosened a little. In other words, it had become harder for me to resist the spasms of loneliness that sometimes overtook me.

In my head I weighed Miss Higuchi and Kaori on a scale, for the moment putting aside the fact that relationships were far too complicated to simply weigh against each other. For one thing, there was a vast difference between "human being" and "humanoid doll". Plus, I had already been acquainted with Miss Higuchi for half a year, even if only through letters. And furthermore, Kaori was tainted with Ozu's foul crimes. The scales tipped heavily towards Miss Higuchi, and accordingly my heart, normally as placid as the Pacific Ocean, began to tremble.

Consequently, I turned my steps towards the residence of Miss Higuchi, whom I had forbidden myself to meet in the first place. I don't know what came over me. But if I hadn't decided to go to her home then, and pierce the veil of mystery, I was sure that a far worse fate awaited me. It was impossible to decide which was the worse poison.

As if pulled along by my longing for human company, I reached Shirakawa Street. The wide intersection at Shirakawa and Imadegawa was filled with cars pa.s.sing back and forth. The chilly breeze continued to blow, augmenting my sense of isolation. The cherry trees lining the Philosopher's Walk on the other side of the intersection had shed their springtime glory, and now only their leaves remained in the dim twilight.

"I'm just going to see what kind of place she lives in. I'm not even going to meet her," I mumbled unconvincingly to myself.

And thus, I made my way towards that unseen, forbidden home of Miss Higuchi, White Garden Jōdoji.

Further south down Shirakawa Street, I located the Jōdoji bus stop, and from there started meandering around the adjacent neighborhoods.

I had gotten her address from her letters, but not having looked it up on a map, I had to rely mostly on intuition to find it. Without a precise destination in mind, I aimlessly wandered the gradually darkening streets. In the back of my mind I wondered whether it might be better to not find it after all, and purposely avoided asking anyone for directions. As I continued to walk the quiet neighborhood, thinking about the peaceful life Miss Higuchi must lead in these streets made me feel a little better.

After half an hour of pointless wandering, I began to reflect on how ungentlemanly this all was. Perhaps it was better to give up now and head home, as the sun had almost set, so it would be wise to head home soon. But at that moment, I suddenly caught sight of White Garden Jōdoji.

The building was neatly tucked away, a large, white apartment building that looked as if it were made of candy. The difference between it, and my own Shimogamo Yūsuisō, was like night and day.

But now that I had found out where she lived, I hadn't the slightest clue what to do. I nonchalantly glanced at the mailbox, but her name wasn't listed. The front door was locked, so there was no getting inside, but I could see the first floor corridor where she lived from across the fence. Her room number was 102, so it was probably the second door from the left. As I stared at her closed door, the horror of the sins I was committing suddenly came crashing down upon me, and I almost decided to flee before she saw me. Then again, since I knew she wouldn't recognize me either, my mind was completely torn.

As I stood there wavering between loneliness and self-loathing, the door to room 102 suddenly opened. I almost ducked down to hide, but I couldn't resist the opportunity that had suddenly presented itself before me.

I laid eyes upon Miss Higuchi.

The Miss Higuchi I saw then looked rather peculiar. Her face was gaunt and pale, like the face of a person from the dark side of the moon, and just looking at her her sly, almost impish smile felt as if I was beckoning misfortune to strike me. It looked just like Ozu's face. They were like two peas in a pod. In fact, the only way it could be this similar is if it were the actual face of Ozu.

The words "there is no G.o.d" silently formed on my lips.

There was no mistaking it.

It was Ozu.

Not sparing a glance in my direction, he walked out the front door and wheeled out the bicycle he called "Dark Scorpion" from the bike rack.

Hidden in the shadow of a wall, I quivered like a lump of jelly as he rode off towards Shirakawa Street, a mocking sneer on his face.

The apartment complex was definitely Miss Higuchi's White Garden Jōdoji. Neither had I mistaken her room number. Unlikely as it was, it was possible that she and Ozu were acquaintances. But were they so close that he would visit her room? No, I wasn't so foolish as to believe in such a coincidence. Even a G.o.d wouldn't dream up such a convoluted scheme.

Then, what other reason could there be?

It suddenly dawned on me that Ozu had never told me where he lived. Here I was in Jōdoji. And two nights ago, Hanuki had been telling me something in that bar in Kiyamachi.

"He lives in a studio in Jōdoji, like a little bit off Shirakawa Street in a building that looks like it's made out of candy..."

If what Hanuki said was true, then it was safe to conclude that White Garden Jōdoji, room 102 was Ozu's residence, which meant that Miss Higuchi lived in the exact same residence. Swallowing this bitter conclusion took a lot of mental fort.i.tude; it would take more than a spoonful of sugar for this medicine to go down.

Miss Higuchi Keiko did not exist.

For over half a year, I had been corresponding with Ozu.

And so, my correspondence with Miss Higuchi came to an abrupt end.

There could be no crueler conclusion.

Through the darkened streets I reeled, stumbling past campus as I made my way home. The dark edifice of the Yūsuisō loomed in front of me ominously, as if reflecting the stony darkness in my own heart.

I slid open the door and walked inside. In dimly lit corridors something was making a hissing sound. On further inspection, it turned out to be a rice cooker that someone had plugged into one of the outlets in the hall. I was in no mood to allow this minor theft of electricity, and I violently ripped the plug out, no doubt ruining someone's dinner, before retreating into my room, slamming the door behind me.

As usual, Kaori was seated in a corner of my dreary room, engrossed in her book. My dream of being with Hanuki had ended, Miss Higuchi had never existed in the first place, and now the only future for me lay in silent Kaori.

I picked up the castella Hanuki had given me, facing off against the rectangular pastry in the center of the 4½-tatami room. Trying to forget it all—the softness of Hanuki's b.r.e.a.s.t.s, the many letters I had exchanged with Miss Higuchi—I decided to make this cake my dinner, and without even cutting it started to devour it.

"This is what you get for ignoring me," Johnny sneered.

"Shut up, I don't want to hear it!"

"Everything would have worked out if you had let me take care of things at Hanuki's place. At least you wouldn't be shut up here in your little room again."

"I don't believe you."

"Well, now all you have left is Kaori."

"You—what are you thinking?"

"Come on now, you're not still trying to keep up this 'gentleman' c.r.a.p are you? Get over yourself, let's just have fun for once! I'm not even asking for a lot, not that I'm expecting a whole lot from you anyways."

Johnny seemed to be planning on doing something vulgar to Kaori, and I was equally desperate to stop him. If I gave in now, the honor I had saved by barricading myself in Hanuki's bathroom would be forfeit. I couldn't allow myself to greedily l.u.s.t after her unresisting form, like a predatory feudal lord in a period drama.

As Johnny and I continued to trade barbs, Kaori continued to quietly read.

"You never fail to disappoint, do you?" Johnny spat.

"It's not my fault, it's Ozu!" I protested, continuing to eat the castella.

I slowly came to the realization that the very act of eating an entire castella by myself was doing nothing more than driving me further into my own personal h.e.l.l of anguish and isolation My face contorted as I chewed, struggling to contain the fury welling up inside me. d.a.m.n Ozu. Considering what had happened with Hanuki and Higuchi Keiko, it was clear that I was just dancing in the palm of his hand That miserable fiend. Where was the fun in any of this? Then again, that was a foolish question to ask. Attempting to understand his behavior from the perspective of a normal person was a fool's errand. He was simply that type of person, someone who would eat three meals a day of other people's unhappiness. Now that I thought about it, he had been feasting happily off me for the last two years.

I had always been dimly aware of this fact, but now it was crystal clear.

Ozu deserved to die.

I would grind him into instant coffee.

As I made up my mind, the ceiling of my room shook slightly.

Some sort of commotion was coming from upstairs, in Ozu's Master's room. I could make out the sounds of a quarrel; someone was stamping their feet. The broken fluorescent light flickered as it swayed, and the moths took flight in a panic, plunging my room into a phantasmagoria of alternating light and shadow. It was almost as if I was in the midst of a tempest. As I paced around my room in a frenzy, I howled obscenities at Ozu, from ba.n.a.l profanities to eschatological maledictions. Was I crying? Of course not, that's absurd. I would never do such a thing. I had plenty of reasons to do so, but I wouldn't allow a single tear to fall until I had ground Ozu up. Johnny, I think I'm going crazy.

"Well, looks like you're done, eh? This is what you get for calling me an idiot and s...o...b..ating with all that gentleman c.r.a.p. I'm done talking. You're doomed to wander around this 4½-tatami prison with me for all of eternity," said Johnny, the one person who would never leave me. "Gentleman, idiot, it's all the same in here."

"I agree, this sucks."

"Well then, even if she is a fake, we might as well have some fun with Kaori."

Aye, there's the rub that Johnny was leading me to.

I gazed at Kaori, leaning against the bookshelf reading Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. Her silky black hair framed her elegant face as she peered at the pages with limpid eyes. Love comes in many forms, but when one wanders into such a claustrophobic maze as this, one is bound to lose one's way, especially for a person such as myself. Led into temptation by Johnny's whispering and Kaori's elegant demeanor, I wondered whether throwing away what little pride I had left would be worth it.

Caught in the throes of my inner struggle, I reached out my hand and stroked Kaori's hair.

At that moment, I heard the thunderous sounds of someone pounding down the stairs. I expected the sounds to fade towards the front entrance, but instead they came down the corridor towards my room. As I wondered what was going on, the door to my room was violently kicked open.

"You!"

A man burst into my room, his eyes filled with murderous intent.

As I later learned, this was Kaori's owner, a man who was engaging Ozu's Master in a mysterious conflict called the "m.a.s.o.c.h.i.s.tic Proxy-Proxy War". His name was Jōgasaki.

The two of us should have found common ground against Ozu; however, our first meeting did not begin with a harmonious handshake. Sparks flew as we engaged in a full-on fistfight. Since I was too proud to resort to brute force, though, it was mostly a one-sided affair, with me on the receiving end.

I was battered into a corner, completely bewildered as to what was going on, while my favorite lucky cat figurine was knocked off my TV. Johnny, who only a moment ago had been wriggling l.u.s.tfully for Kaori, screamed like a little girl and dived for cover. Certainly a shameful display of cowardice from my pride and joy.

Behind the figure that towered over me, Ozu's yukatwearing Master calmly stepped over the threshold. A girl came puffing in behind him, shouldering him out of the way. I seemed to remember having seen her somewhere before.

"Jōgasaki!" she snapped. "You can't just come in fists flying like this!"

She helped me up. "Are you okay? I'm sorry about all this, it's all a misunderstanding."

Unused to having my door broken down and being savagely a.s.saulted, I rose to my feet in my most dignified manner, and held the damp handkerchief that she handed to me to my bruised jaw. The girl picked up my lucky cat figurine and said, "I apologize for the sudden intrusion. My name is Akashi."

"Jōgasaki, you've got it completely wrong," Ozu's Master said.

"He's not part of it?" Jōgasaki asked suspiciously.

"Not at all. He was merely entrapped by Ozu," replied Akashi.

"My bad," Jōgasaki apologized, but he turned quickly to Kaori. He looked relieved to find her unharmed, lovingly stretching out his arm to stroke her hair as if she was his own child. If I had done anything untoward…I shuddered to think of what would have happened. Jōgasaki probably would have rolled me up in a bamboo mat and tossed me into the Kamo River.

While Jōgasaki and Kaori were having their emotional reunion, Ozu's Master plopped down on my chair as if he owned the place and lit up a cigar, seemingly disinclined to explain what was going on. I was left completely in the dark.

"Seeing that Ozu has absconded for the time being, can we consider this all water under the bridge?" said the Master. "Things were never supposed to go this far."

"Well, since I did get Kaori back safely, I suppose no harm, no foul. But I'm going to have a talk with that punk Ozu. I can't believe he broke into my room, dude," Jōgasaki said, rather forcefully. He seemed to be as angry as I was.

"Ozu will be here soon enough. Boil him, mash him, stick him in a stew, though no matter how you slice him I'm afraid you'll find him quite inedible," said the Master, rather irresponsibly.

"That's right; Ozu started this, so he needs to answer for his actions," Akashi declared.

Drinking in the situation, my fury at Ozu began to bubble up once more. It all took a deeper meaning now that I had come face to face with Jōgasaki, who had also suffered greatly at the hands of Ozu.

"Ah, is that a castella?" the Master asked, looking greedily at the remnants of the castella I had been eating by myself. I sliced off a bit of uneaten cake and gave to him, which he proceeded to devour with great gusto.

Jōgasaki scowled at him.

"What a s.h.i.tshow, man. I was so convinced he was my double agent."

"How naïve. You really think Ozu is that straightforward?" Master Higuchi smiled and stood up. "Now, I think I will return to my room."

"Hold on, how am I supposed to bring Kaori back?" Jōgasaki objected.

"I believe Ozu borrowed a car from someone," said Akashi.

"Unbelievable. Sorry dude, I'm gonna need you to hold on to her for a little while longer until I get a car. Shouldn't be any later than tonight," Jōgasaki said to me, a little apologetically.

"Sure," I nodded.

Ozu's Master stepped out of my room and watched the entrance to the boarding house, still smoking his cigar. After a while he called out.

"Ozu, over here, over here. Come here for a moment," he beckoned.

Jōgasaki and I simultaneously leapt to our feet and clenched our fists, prepared to pulverize Ozu.

"Master, what are you doing in this pigsty?" He peered inside, but the moment he saw the two of us standing there seething, he turned tail so quickly he almost fell over. His sixth sense for danger, as usual, was on point. In his haste to escape, he kicked the rice cooker I had unplugged earlier. It tumbled down the hall, clanking noisily.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he wailed as he sprinted down the hall. If he was going to apologize, then he shouldn't have done anything in the first place.

"Motherf.u.c.kerrrrrrr!" Jōgasaki and I bellowed as we pursued him. Akashi and the Master followed.

When it came to running away, Ozu was world-cla.s.s, and he shot through Shimogamo Izumigawa like a bat out of h.e.l.l. As fast as I ran, Jōgasaki gradually outpaced me, and I finally petered out as I pa.s.sed the twinkling lights of Shimogamo Saryō on my way towards to Demachiyanagi Station.

Akashi came riding up on a bicycle behind me.

"Let's pincer Ozu at the Great Kamo Bridge. Please go to the west side of the bridge," she said coolly. I watched her admiringly as she rode off to encircle Ozu, tires screeching.

Trying not to be too pleased with myself for not having collapsed yet, I struggled on to Aoi Park. Ozu and Jōgasaki must have turned towards Kawabata Street. Seeing the Kamo Delta right in front of me, I crossed the Demachi Bridge to the west bank and panted as I made my way south on the embankment, finally reaching the west end of the Great Kamo Bridge.

Dusk had already fallen, and the Kamo Delta was once again occupied by boisterous students. It was probably a welcoming banquet for new students. Come to think of it, I had spent the past two years completely avoiding such things.

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.

As I walked across the bridge, still trying to catch my breath, Ozu came sprinting towards me from the other side. Akashi had successfully lured him in. I felt supremely satisfied at having outwitted him.

"Ozu!" I yelled, spreading my arms out. He came to a stop, with a wry smile on his face.

Jōgasaki came running up from the east end of the bridge, but he was gasping for breath as well. Akashi followed close behind him. Ozu was pinned right in the middle of the bridge, with the Kamo River flowing by right beneath us. Over to the south, beyond the murky stretches of the river, the far-off lights of Shijō Street blinked and sparkled like gems.

"Help me, we're friends, right?" he pleaded to me, clasping his hands.

"My humblest regards, Miss Higuchi. It was fun," I sneered.

For a moment he tried to feign innocence, but he soon realized it was no use. "I didn't mean anything by it," he cajoled. "It's all just fun and games, isn't it?"

"You played me for a fool. It's no use. You're dead."

"You? Kill me? You wouldn't!"

Jōgasaki and Akashi finally reached us.

"Ozu, we're going to have a talk," Jōgasaki said gravely.

Despite the fact that he was cornered, Ozu somehow managed to pull off a smile.

Suddenly he turned and leapt nimbly up to the guardrail. The lanterns that lined the bridge lit his face with an orange glow from below, making him look ghastlier than I had seen him in a long time. For a moment it seemed like he would fly off into the sky like a winged demon and make his escape.

"If you're going to hurt me, then I'll jump off the bridge!" he declared, rather unreasonably. "I'm not coming down until you guarantee my safety!"

"You're hardly in a position to bargain for your safety, you half-wit," I said.

"Think about what you've done," added Jōgasaki.

"Akashi, say something! I'm your mentor, you know!" Ozu cried in a wheedling tone, but Akashi just shrugged and said, "I've got nothing."

"Have I ever told you how attractive you are when you're frank like that?"

"Flattering me won't get you anywhere."

Ozu inched towards the edge and spread his arms as if he was about to fly off into the night. "Fine, I'm going to jump now!" he screamed.

"Fine, go ahead. Jump. It's about time," I said.

Just disappear into the river already. Then we'd both finally be able to have some peace and quiet.

"You're not jumping, dude," Jōgasaki scoffed. "You love yourself too much."

"Yeah? I'll show you!" Ozu vowed.

Yet for all his words, he just stood there.

As we stood there shouting back and forth, 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 Jōgasaki standing beside me, oblivious to the writhing moths entangled in his hair.

I looked around in the soft orange light of the lanterns illuminating the bridge.

As if he had made a grand escape borne on the wings of those moths, Ozu was nowhere to be seen.

"That dumba.s.s really fell off," Jōgasaki muttered, looking over the guardrail.

Jōgasaki and I descended down the embankments from 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 entered the water and approached the underside of the bridge; something seemed to be wriggling in the shadows of the pillars. Ozu clung desperately like a discarded piece of trash, trying not to be swept away. The water wasn't too deep, but it was swift, and Jōgasaki was nearly swept off his feet. With some difficulty, we made our way to Ozu.

"You moron!" I yelled while being drenched by the spray, but he simply laughed through his tears.

"C'mon, why don't we just call it all water under the bridge?" he quipped.

"You don't know when to shut up, dude," Jōgasaki said.

"Yes, sir. My right leg really hurts a lot," Ozu said meekly.

With help from Jōgasaki I raised Ozu to his feet. "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, hurts. Help me," he moaned.

"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."

I glanced at Jōgasaki, who was kneeling beside Ozu, and had to swallow my anger. Of course, now that he had broken his leg, even I wasn't really thinking about dragging Ozu to Shimogamo Yūsuisō and grinding him up into coffee.

Before long, Ozu's Master ambled down the slope towards us. He had certainly taken his sweet time walking over from Shimogamo Yūsuisō.

"Ah, I was wondering where you had all gone."

"Ozu got himself hurt, Higuchi. It looks like a broken bone," said Jōgasaki.

"What a miserable fellow," observed the Master.

"But Master, I did all this for you," Ozu cried piteously.

"Ozu, you show a lot of promise," the 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.

Jōgasaki went up the embankment to fetch the EMTs, who promptly wrapped up Ozu in a blanket and set him on a stretcher. I would have been overjoyed if they at that point threw him into the river, but being professionals, they did not distinguish between their patients.

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

Jōgasaki mentioned something about getting a car to pick up Kaori, seemingly having forgotten about Ozu already, and departed the riverbank.

At last, only Akashi and I were left. Akashi still had her face buried in her hands, as I shivered in my drenched clothes.

"Are you alright?" I asked her.

"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. I started talking about my troubles with Ozu, eventually coming to the events of the past few days. But when I spoke of how angry I was with Ozu for inventing Miss Higuchi, and toying with my heart as he had done, she unexpectedly apologized.

"I'm terribly sorry, but I had a hand in that as well. Ozu asked me to be a ghostwriter for him, you see."

"What?"

"I read Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, like you suggested."

A wide smile appeared on her face.

"Your letters were very good. There were a lot of lies in there, but they were good nonetheless."

"You noticed?"

"Then again, I was lying as well, so why don't we call it even?" she said.

Suddenly, with a smile on her still-pale cheeks, she blurted out, "We met at the Shimogamo Shrine used book fair, didn't we? Do you remember?"

That was one year ago, at the Shimogamo Shrine used 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.

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 a girl with her eyebrows knit as if deep in thought.

I stood up and began browsing through the bookshelves. 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 "Evening Breeze Used Book Fair".

Fanning my sweat-beaded face, I walked off into the Tadasu Forest, the book dangling from my hand.

That night, Jōgasaki reclaimed Kaori, and the pair resumed their tranquil, loving lives together.

According to Ozu, Jōgasaki was popular with real girls as well, and had a series of relationships when Ozu had been in the his circle. Looking at his handsome features, it wasn't hard to imagine. What I couldn't understand was why someone with so many women to choose from would choose to devote himself to Kaori. He had already been living with Kaori for two years, so he was pretty committed.

"Living with and cherishing a love doll is a very special thing. Real girls are a completely separate issue. It's a very refined sort of love, something a lowlife such as yourself who only sees a love doll as a s.e.x toy could never understand," he snidely lectured.

Having lived with Kaori for four days, I could see where Jōgasaki was coming from, but that path was not one a knave like me was meant to tread. In the end I would rather choose a raven-haired maiden, a living one. Perhaps someone like Akashi.

Ozu's Master continued to live on the second floor of Shimogamo Yūsuisō, and I would occasionally b.u.mp into him. Always wearing his dark blue yukata, he serenely doddered around doing whatever he pleased like a pensioner. Akashi often came to visit him.

"The Master always does as he pleases. That's what makes him so grand... in his own fashion," she declared. The Master even extended me an offer to become his disciple, which I considered for a time.

Two things gave me pause. The first was that I hadn't a clue what I would be a disciple of. The second was that if I did become a disciple, I would become Ozu's underling.

A few days earlier I had partaken of a hotpot in Higuchi's room and ran into Hanuki there.

"Small world, huh?" she exclaimed.

I still didn't know very much about the conflict between Jōgasaki and Higuchi, which was the whole reason the Kaori kidnapping plot had occurred in the first place, even though kidnapping was apparently against the rules. While Ozu was in the hospital, Akashi took up his mantle splendidly, sneaking over at night and converting Jōgasaki's bike into a five-wheeler.

After this incident, I began to get closer to Akashi.

I guess you could say that there was a silver lining to Ozu's wickedness after all, though that hardly meant all was forgiven. Getting more material for OZU NEWS at the English conversation school was hardly a fair trade for what I had gone through, though my cla.s.smates would surely listen appreciatively to this latest round of gossip.

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 following this incident a number of 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 the Honwaka softball circle in front of that fateful clock tower that day had been a mistake. What if I had chosen a different path? If I had chosen the Misogi movie circle, or responded to that call for disciples, 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 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.