Paprika

by Yasutaka Tsutsui

  Sukenobu turned into Akishige, the boy Noda had been trying his hardest to forget. He stopped the bicycle in a corner of the lobby and started talking to another boy who was suddenly standing there.

  “Who’s the other one?”

  “Shinohara. One of Akishige’s cronies.” Noda started to walk as he spoke. “But to answer your question just now. There was a friend I had, a long time ago. His name was Toratake. I think I named my son after him.”

  For some reason, Noda was in no small hurry to leave the lobby. He was pretending to have remembered some other important detail; there seemed to be something he didn’t want Paprika to know. Paprika was well aware of his dissembling, but pretended not to have noticed. Now he spoke with ever increasing speed, as if he wasn’t in the middle of a dream. As if he was trying to wake himself. In fact, he probably was beginning to wake up. That explained why he could talk so lucidly.

  “I often saw films with Toratake. Dr. No was one of them. Toratake’s parents owned a large inn. He was film mad. My dream was to be a film director and his was to be a cameraman. We used to talk about it. We said we’d make a film together one day.”

  Paprika seemed aware of these revelations already. She was looking around warily while walking next to Noda. They had left the building and were walking along the pavement. As they approached the crossroads at the corner, Paprika stopped and pointed back to the building. “There’s a tobacco store there,” she said loudly. “The place where Akishige and Shinohara were talking just now? It’s behind it. You see? Behind the tobacco store.”

  The scene changed immediately to the banks of the stream they’d seen in the previous night’s dream, the small plot of waste ground behind the tobacco store.

  “********!” Noda shouted something that even he didn’t understand, thereby changing the scene. It was the place where he felt most at ease, his favorite okonomi-yaki restaurant from university days. He felt a little ashamed at that, but was in no position to be fussy.

  As a character who shared his dream, Paprika blocked the change of scene.

  “I know it’s cruel, but you can’t.”

  In her half-sleeping, half-waking state, she must have pressed the back-skip key with her fingertip. The scene changed back to the vacant lot behind the tobacco store. Akishige, Takao, and Shinohara were bullying Namba. Namba was rolling helplessly on the ground while the three bullies kicked him.

  “It’s not Namba. Who is it?”

  With a cry of despair at Paprika’s merciless questioning, Noda fled once more to the comfort of the okonomi-yaki restaurant.

  Back-skip.

  Behind the tobacco store. This time, it was Noda’s son who was being bullied. He was four or five years old again. Shinohara was sitting astride Torao and strangling him.

  “Stop it!” Noda screamed as he went to punch the bully. “It’s not Torao, is it? It’s Toratake!”

  Noda woke with a start. He sat up in bed, his face drenched in sweat. Tears filled his eyes. “You see,” he said to Paprika, who was facing the collector. “Toratake died. I killed him.”

  15

  “Sorry to have forced that on you,” Paprika said as she removed the gorgon. “I wanted you to remember as much as possible before you woke up. It wasn’t you who killed Toratake. Was it?”

  A sweet fragrance from Paprika’s bosom invaded Noda’s nostrils as he tried to catch his breath. Paprika supported him as he sat up. She was still wearing her negligee. The troubled wanderings of his mind now held in check, Noda gave a large sigh.

  “He committed suicide. But it was my fault. I might just as well have killed him myself.”

  “You can’t know that. You may only have convinced yourself of it.” Paprika soothed Noda’s fears in a tone that suggested she’d long realized the truth of the matter. “Well now. Have a shower first. Then I’ll make us some breakfast. Let’s analyze the dream while we eat.”

  Paprika spoke as if deliberately intending to satisfy a middle-aged man’s need for a mother figure, or perhaps a nurse. She had a huge smile on her face; the previous night’s mood was but a distant memory.

  I remember. I remember everything. As the hot water of the shower rushed over his body, Noda began to immerse himself in a sense of comforting reassurance. He felt so relaxed that he could barely understand why he’d been unable to control his anxiety until now. He’d been so smugly sure of himself, especially when it came to the finer points of human relationships. He should have felt no anxiety at all. And yet, he’d felt so anxious that he thought he was going to die. The only explanation, he’d then feared, was that something was growing inside his brain. Now he could laugh it all off.

  “So this Toratake was your best friend, yes?” Sitting opposite Noda, Paprika did her best to hide her swollen eye as she started the analysis.

  “That’s right. His parents owned an inn. That must be why I dreamt of one. They were saying a tiger was on the loose, weren’t they.” Paprika’s salad tasted good, even without dressing. Noda thought that slightly odd; her salads had always been dressed.

  “So whenever you dreamt of a tiger, it always represented Toratake. Even I looked like a tiger in the cinema, didn’t I. The dream was trying to tell you that Toratake was the one you went to see films with.”

  “Yes. It’s as if the dreams were trying to tell me about him all along …” Noda sensed a change in Paprika’s approach; now it seemed she wanted him to analyze his own dreams. But he was happy to go along with that. “One of the animals in the classroom was a tiger, and Toratake’s death was symbolized by Namba’s funeral. And you remember the Dr. No scene? When me and Namba were happily firing at each other? That showed how well I used to get on with Toratake. But the strange thing is that I couldn’t remember him. Why would that be? I’ve no idea. After all, he was my best friend. Actually, I seem to remember dreaming about tigers before. That’s right. I remember now. Whenever I dream about tigers, I’m always torn between feelings of fear and nostalgia.”

  “But you remembered Takao. The one who looked like a bear.”

  “Yes. But even Takao appeared as Segawa.” Noda was getting quite carried away with his analysis now. “By showing me the present group, I mean Sukenobu, Segawa, me, and Namba, the dream was reminding me of my bullying classmates from junior high school.”

  “Bingo. But that can’t be all. Can you think of anything else? I think we can learn a lot from this.” Paprika’s cheeks were flushed with the thrill of the chase, as if she felt entertained by this quest for truth. To be sure, the challenge to unravel the mystery of dreams always came as a pleasure to her.

  “The dream in the cinema, and the one when I was a film director, they were both hinting at Toratake, weren’t they. The same goes for the scene behind the tobacco store. That was where Akishige did his bullying. Him and his cronies, Takao and Shinohara. If there was someone they didn’t like, they would take them there and beat them. Akishige didn’t like Toratake because he studied hard. So he told me to take Toratake behind the tobacco store. I knew that if I’d refused, they would only have beaten me instead of Toratake. So I took him there. I just stood to one side and watched as the three of them beat him up.” Noda groaned in frustration. “Damn it! I used to make myself sick remembering that scene!”

  “And you’ve suppressed it because of the Namba problem at work?”

  “Of course – that must be it. The situations are just too similar.” Noda glanced across as he brought the coffee cup to his lips. “So is that what caused my anxiety neurosis?”

  “Yes. It won’t be the only reason, of course. But did your friend Toratake commit suicide because of that?”

  “I took him home after they’d finished beating him. He was covered in blood. He knew I’d betrayed him, but wouldn’t utter a word of reproach. I couldn’t say anything either. That’s when it happened. We stopped being friends. My betrayal ruined our friendship, and his life.” Noda looked out at the sky behind Paprika. “That’s it! I must have called my son Torao
in the hope of making up for my guilt.”

  “But would someone really commit suicide just because of that?” Paprika repeated. She peered at Noda with an expression made all the more intense by the swelling around her eye. “Have you ever thought about it as an adult? Knowing so much about human behavior, as you do?”

  “What?” Noda was stunned. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you know, sometimes we convince ourselves of certain things in childhood, and thereby create an illusion of truth that remains with us even as adults. However illogical it may seem.”

  “But they kept bullying him after that.”

  “Are you sure? Did you see it with your own eyes?”

  “No. I never saw it …” Noda gradually started to doubt his own memory. He’d always considered his memory flawless, but his recollection of events had often been overturned by firm evidence to the contrary.

  “All right, you say he committed suicide, but did you go to the funeral?”

  “No. I have no memory of that.” Noda let his gaze roam over the sky once more.

  “See? If you look back from your present perspective, you start to realize there’s something wrong with the way you remember things.”

  “But I heard it clearly from Shinohara. That’s right. He said it on the telephone, when he called about the school reunion.”

  “Reunion? …”

  “Ah … I see. That means Toratake couldn’t have died when we were still at junior high,” Noda mumbled in growing confusion. “It was the first reunion we’d had since leaving school. I was already at university. My whole family had moved to Tokyo, but most of my classmates had gone to senior high schools near the old village. So there hadn’t been any call for a reunion until then.”

  “And what did Shinohara say on the phone?”

  “He asked if I knew about Toratake’s suicide.”

  “You sure? Is that what he really said?” Paprika pressed Noda further, her voice laden with doubt.

  “Well, yes! It was such a shock. I remember it clearly.”

  “Why? After all, even if he did commit suicide, it had nothing to do with you, did it? It would have happened long after your school days.”

  Noda looked deflated. “You’re right. Why have I convinced myself all this time that it was my fault?”

  “Because you’ve been suppressing your feelings for Toratake,” Paprika said as she stood and began to clear away the breakfast things. It was a deliberate ploy to make her words sound casual, thereby mitigating the shock Noda would surely feel. “And you had to do that, to suppress your feelings for Namba. When feelings are suppressed, their energy turns to anxiety.”

  “Feelings? …” Noda felt a brief sensation of dizziness. “You mean, homosexual feelings?”

  “Don’t sound so surprised! We all have them, you know,” Paprika said calmly. “More coffee?”

  Noda was speechless. Paprika smiled like a mother telling her child about sex for the first time. “Well now. That seems to have come as quite a shock to you. But what I just said is a Freudian interpretation. It’s not the only cause of anxiety neurosis. There are many different ways of analyzing it. Ah yes …” Paprika toyed with her spoon as she pondered her point, then nodded and looked up at Noda. “In your case, maybe another explanation would be easier to understand. Anxiety is often discussed within a framework of theories on human relationships. In the early stages of life, by which I mean childhood rather than infancy, anxiety appears as a third unpleasant experience. Before that, there were only pain and fear. You were rejected by Toratake, an important character at an early stage of your life. The object of your fear of rejection shifted in adulthood. Now, it was no longer a person who was important in your childhood, but a successor to that important person. It didn’t have to be a person at all; it could have been some kind of social convention, for example. In any case, anxiety is born of human relationships, and either evolves or disappears within that framework.”

  Noda thought for a moment before reacting. “You remember when I met Namba’s wife in the dream about his funeral? You said she was my anima, didn’t you.”

  “That’s right.”

  “And so you’re saying the woman was in fact me. Or at least, the part of me that has feelings for Namba.”

  “Yes. The female inside you.”

  “Could I have some more coffee? Thanks. Yes – maybe I should give more thought to Namba …”

  “Hey! You’re not coming out, are you?!” Paprika laughed as she refilled Noda’s cup.

  Noda grimaced. “I wouldn’t go that far! But you know, Namba could find himself in real trouble thanks to Sukenobu.” Noda mentioned his exchange with Sukenobu and the President in the hotel bar, and his own suspicion that Sukenobu was plotting something.

  Paprika smiled meaningfully. “You’ll probably find the answer to that in your dreams as well.”

  “So … Am I completely cured now?”

  “Yes. The treatment’s finished.”

  Noda couldn’t help noticing that, as Paprika spoke, her eyes appeared to glisten wistfully. It would certainly not have been the first time a young woman had taken a shine to him. But he decided to write it off as nothing but vain delusion.

  “It’s all down to the strength of your will, and your intelligence. I mean, the fact that you’ve been cured so quickly,” said Paprika. “But there’s something else I want you to do. I want you to solve your problems with human relations in the here and now. Well, that goes without saying. And another thing. Find out what really happened to Toratake. How did he die? It’s important. You mustn’t leave things like that unresolved. You can do that, can’t you?”

  “Aha. I’ll phone Shinohara. He seems to like me. He’s called me about the reunions several times.”

  “Children who are bullied remember it for the rest of their lives. But the bullies forget all about it. I’ve witnessed that so many times.”

  As Noda prepared to leave, he could hardly bear his sadness at parting. He turned at the door and met Paprika’s gaze.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget about you.”

  “I know. We call it rapport. A patient’s feelings for a doctor,” Paprika said as she removed a loose thread from Noda’s lapel. “But sometimes it happens to the doctor as well. I won’t ever forget you, either.” Paprika’s eye remained fixed on Noda’s chest as she spoke. “You won’t mind me looking like this, will you? I just want you to kiss me goodbye. Just once.”

  16

  Torataro Shima was just putting the phone down when Atsuko walked into his office. “You know Tatsuo Noda?” he said, beaming. “He’s only gone and donated ten million yen to the Institute!”

  “Well, I never!”

  “He’s rolling in it, after all. I assume that means the treatment went well?” Shima got up and directed Atsuko toward an armchair in the reception area. He himself sat at one end of the sofa, diagonally to her right. As always.

  “I’d say he’s almost completely cured,” Atsuko replied.

  “He certainly sounded happy. But it’s amazing that you managed to cure him so quickly! Er – of course, I mean Paprika managed to cure him so quickly!” Shima chuckled in self-amusement, before addressing the matter that really concerned him. “You know, I’d be awfully keen to hear what method of treatment Paprika used? …”

  “Method of treatment?” Atsuko laughed, knowing the true motive behind Shima’s interest. “There was a positive relationship between therapist and patient, if that’s what you mean. But since the patient’s problem was anxiety neurosis, all Paprika did was to analyze his dreams. She didn’t go as far as she did with you. Don’t worry. But she did let him kiss her at the end. Just to say goodbye.”

  “She let him kiss her? Ah.” Shima groaned enviously. “You mean in his dream? As she did with me?”

  “No. In reality. She found him rather attractive, and got caught up in a reverse rapport. Just a bit.”

  “That’s inexcusable.”

&n
bsp; “Isn’t it.”

  After a pretense of glaring at each other for a second, the two burst into laughter. But even as he laughed, Shima could not wipe the look of jealousy from his face.

  “President Shima.” Atsuko sat up. “About the Board Meeting the other day …”

  “Ah.” Shima’s expression was instantly transformed into one of heaviness. He peered up at Atsuko’s face with a look of apology in his eyes. “I understand how very unpleasant it must have been for you and Tokita. I never thought things would go that far. But as you said in the first place, it was definitely a good idea to call the meeting so quickly.”

  He didn’t seem very keen to talk about it. Shima was a person who, deep down, found it hard to cope with the intricacies of human relationships.

  “I know you don’t like talking about this kind of thing,” Atsuko said in a tone of regret. “But I have to ask your advice about remedial measures.”

  “Yes. Of course. First Tsumura was affected, then your assistant Kakimoto. Inui and the other directors must surely have heard about it.”

  “I’m really sorry.”

  Nobue Kakimoto had started to behave violently, and had been confined to an isolation unit in the hospital. Atsuko inevitably had to accept some of the responsibility, since Nobue was her assistant. She would almost certainly face charges of professional negligence at the next Board Meeting.

  “Have you contacted her family?”

  “Well …” Her conscience pricked, Atsuko cast her eyes down. “I didn’t mention any illness, as I’m sure it’s only temporary. I just told them she’s suffering from fatigue and we’re giving her time to recuperate.”

  Nobue lived alone in a sleepy Tokyo suburb; her family home was in Aomori, far to the north.

  Atsuko lifted her head. “I’ll treat her myself,” she said. “I think she’ll recover quickly.”

  “I’ll leave it to you then,” Shima said with an imploring look in his eyes. “I couldn’t bear to think of them criticizing you like that.”