The Kingdom

by Fuminori Nakamura

“Maybe it was.”

  “You’re next in this room.”

  I felt a chill run down my back, but I didn’t let it show on my face and steadied my body.

  “I can’t say what I really think unless I’m alone with someone.”

  “Well, that’s fine. Come. You should tell me everything about yourself. Tell me about the essence of your being.”

  He grabbed my arm again. He was strong. His movements were casual. We passed through the hallway and reached a bridge connecting the building to another. His room was probably at the end of this hall. I could see the moon through the windows of the bridge. It was huge. I noticed that my body was disgustingly hot. My plan probably wouldn’t work. But I had no choice but to try. I couldn’t shake his arm off. I had come this far. I couldn’t run away.

  For some reason the moon looked tinted red through the window. I tried to face the moon and make myself smile. The moonlight was strong. Strong enough to shake me. There was something painfully nostalgic about the red of the moon. “I’ll show you.” To give myself strength, I whispered to the moon in my head, “I’ll show you my madness.”

  8.

  Even after entering the room, Kizaki didn’t turn on many lights. A single orange light shone in the darkness, casting his twisted shadow on the wall. In the large room was an illuminated aquarium, several shiny sofas arranged around a large table, and racks filled with wine and whiskey. The partitions separating his bedroom were opened. In the corner of that room was an enormous bed, and on top of his desk was a simple laptop computer. That was the first thing I laid my eyes on. From the windows of this top-floor apartment, I could see the lights of the surrounding buildings.

  “Would you like something to drink?” I asked, shifting so my dress draped more revealingly over my chest. He sat on the sofa and lit a cigarette.

  I put my bag down, chose a bottle of whiskey from the rack, and put ice in two glasses. The shelf was in the shadows, and he couldn’t see what I was doing. Just in case, I positioned myself to make a blind spot. I twisted my ring so the fake gem faced down. I lifted the cap and dumped powder in the drink. My fingers were used to this movement as I had done it countless times. I poured the whiskey, added ice and mineral water, and approached the table with the two glasses in my hands. I passed one glass to Kizaki, and took the drugged one as my own.

  “Excuse me.”

  I made a point to leave my seat. I turned my back to him and grabbed a towel to wipe off the drops of water stuck to the glasses. No one would drink the alcohol poured by a woman who’s after you. He would change his glass for mine. I smiled, returned to the table, and stared at the glasses. They weren’t switched. My pulse sped up slightly. The drugged drink was there on my side, and Kizaki was calmly drinking the whiskey I’d handed him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Kizaki smiled and glanced at me. I smiled as well, brought the glass to my lips, and took it away without drinking anything.

  “May I sit next to you?” Without waiting for his reply, I took my glass and sat next to him. I pressed my shoulder against his, and showed him my drink.

  “I made it too strong. Do you want this one?”

  “You should make another.”

  “You’re right.”

  I smiled slightly, and took his arm.

  “Won’t you hold me?”

  I tried to look past his glasses into his eyes, and made a slightly embarrassed face. I leaned my body forward, crumpling the fabric around my legs and chest.

  “I thought you would knock me down the second we entered the room.”

  “I’m not desperate for women,” Kizaki said quietly. “I’ve slept with enough women to ruin it. I don’t always enjoy regular sex.”

  “What kind of sex do you like?” I pressed my chest against his arm. “If you don’t sleep with me, the manager will get mad. But I’m glad I’m with you. Fuck me.”

  I brought my face up close to his. I smiled at him challengingly.

  “Or, are you scared of me? Scared of fucking me? Try to dominate me.”

  Kizaki kept staring.

  “If that’s how it is, I’ll start things. It’s all right as long as I get you excited, right?”

  I kissed his neck, and wrapped my arm around him. My heart was beating like crazy, and I could feel the heat. I fingered the bracelet on the arm I put around him. I wondered if it would work. My metal bracelet was strangely shaped. It was said that during the cold war bracelets like this were used for assassinations. Yata had given it to me, and it sparkled beautifully. I gradually brought my arm up behind the back of his neck. I pushed on the bracelet’s clip, and a needle popped out. In it was a type of nerve poison. It would paralyze someone, but not kill them. That was what Yata had said, but would it really work? The needle was shiny, extremely thin and sharp. The beauty of that needle took my breath away. I imagined that needle piercing the beautiful neck of a strong man. My hands did not shake. I focused on my nerves, grew obsessed with that beauty, and while running my lips along Kizaki’s ears, brought the needle closer.

  “All this metal gets in the way.” Kizaki didn’t move an inch. He just spoke quietly.

  My hand stopped. I couldn’t move.

  “Metal gets in the way of sex. Take it off.”

  He smiled and looked at me. I smiled back. Our eyes were locked and a few seconds passed. Nervous, I put the needle away and took off my bracelet.

  “I’m sorry about that.”

  I put the bracelet in my dress pocket. I made sure to keep up my smile.

  “But it’s beautiful. Show it to me.”

  Kizaki never stopped smiling. I began to lose my strength.

  “Never mind that. Let’s keep going.” I took his arm.

  “Just show it to me.”

  The room grew quiet. If you listened closely, you could hear the heater crying out in the background.

  I couldn’t decide what to do. Depending on what I did next, my life could end in a matter of seconds. For some reason, my body was hot. What would it feel like to die? Maybe in a second, without knowing anything, you just become nothing. My heart kept beating unreasonably, as if to resist the end I was approaching, as if to assert my life. I pulled my body away from Kizaki, and put the bracelet on the table. Then I sat on the sofa across from him.

  “It doesn’t really suit me.”

  I lost all my strength. Kizaki picked the bracelet up with his fingers.

  “I was hired to come here. By a man called Yata.” I looked at him, completely powerless. “At first I was doing it for money. But I got in too deep, and now if I don’t do what he says, he’ll kill me. I was sent here to try and figure out your plans. I have to take all the information you have. I was going to put you to sleep. Do you have any idea of who could be targeting you?”

  “There are too many people.”

  Kizaki exhaled his cigarette smoke quietly.

  “But it doesn’t seem like I’ll be able to take anything from you. I’m just doing this for work. I don’t have anything against you. I don’t know anything about you. I’ll just run away from Yata already. But I don’t think you’d send someone home after they came to get you.”

  I stood up.

  “If you’ll let me go in exchange for sex, you should have sex with me. Do what you want to my body, as many times as you want. Just don’t kill me.”

  I took off the straps of my dress, and headed toward the bed. I half-hid my body with my falling dress, but exposed my legs and sat on the bed.

  “If you’ll forgive me, please, hurry and do it. It’s too miserable like this.”

  Kizaki cut across the darkness and came toward me. His body was broad and big. He took off his necktie. I couldn’t breathe. He kneeled on the bed, and covered my body with his.

  “Before that, take the stun gun off your hip.”

  I felt a dull
pain in my heart. I got off the bed, stuck my hand through the false bottom of my purse, and grabbed the pistol there. Chest heaving, I pointed the muzzle at Kizaki.

  “Oh.”

  “I’ll really shoot. Do what I tell you.”

  I felt strange holding a gun. On it was carved m3913. It was an American gun made for women. Yata had given me this gun. It really stood out in this room. It overflowed with presence, and confused me. It was so exotic—it looked more like it should belong to Kizaki than to myself. It felt as though I was getting closer to him through this black gun. I was approaching the inexplicable, unhappy world where he belonged. Why was I trying to smile at a moment like this?

  “Hurry. I don’t have much patience.”

  “You can’t shoot.”

  I had to shoot. Facing this incomprehensible man, I had no choice but to take that kind of action. I couldn’t shoot his leg. I aimed for his stomach. I had shot guns before, when I’d been abroad. If I missed, I might hit his heart, but that was something to think about when that time came. For now, I needed to get out of here. I had to do it to keep living.

  “I’ll shoot. I’m going to shoot.”

  “If you’re going to do it, do it.” Kizaki laughed a little. “When you pull that trigger, you’ll understand just what kind of world you’re living in.”

  There was pressure on my chest, and something was crawling up my throat. My whole body was being pulled toward the trigger. I tensed my shoulders and pulled the trigger. There was a dry sound, and my vision shook. There were no bullets.

  I noticed it the moment I felt that dull pain in my heart. Behind me, there was a gun pointed at my head.

  9.

  The man behind me, reflected in the window, was wearing a plain coat. If he had been hiding in this room, where had he been? The skin on my head where that gun was pointed began to go numb. I couldn’t feel my legs, but somehow I kept standing.

  “Why?” I whispered. Kizaki stood in front of me, laughing slightly.

  “The bullets? They’re here.” Bullets tumbled from Kizaki’s hand to the table.

  “But when . . .”

  “There was time. When you were watching the show.”

  My body was losing strength.

  “Don’t tell me you were so engrossed you didn’t notice? I had one of my men search you. As for the bracelet, I figured I could find out what was in there later.”

  “Too dangerous . . .” said the man behind me. “This woman is brave, but she’s no pro. If she were . . .”

  “You can tell whether she’s a pro from looking at her.”

  The room went cold.

  “Well, shall I kill her?”

  Kizaki leaned back on the sofa and sipped his drink. “The only problem is the body. Should we wrap it up?”

  “Certainly. There are men waiting in the hall. All we need is five minutes to get her out of here.”

  “You have three. Be quick about it.”

  “Understood.” The man behind me took a quiet breath, as if to prepare himself.

  “I love looking at people who know they are about to die,” Kizaki said. He was looking at me, his mouth twisted. “I don’t kill many people. Personally, that is. I prefer to watch them die like this. He’s killed many, though. How does it feel? How does it feel to kill someone?” Kizaki asked the man behind me.

  “The first time I killed someone, I needed a woman after.”

  “And now?”

  “I just need a little alcohol.”

  Kizaki laughed and took another sip of his drink. He moved his hand like he was signaling something.

  “Wait.” I tried to gain control of my wild mind, and somehow, I got those words out. I couldn’t breathe properly. “But I still don’t understand why. I . . .”

  “I like watching people who don’t know why they’re dying.”

  I looked at him blankly.

  “Why did this happen, they think,” he said. “How did I get dragged in like this? Why am I going to die? I like watching people die, trapped in that whirlpool of nonsensicalness.”

  I wondered why I’d come here. It was bound to turn out like this. Why did I try to rush straight into the lair of someone who wanted to drag me down? If I hadn’t come, Yata would have killed me. But besides that, I felt the heat inside me, inviting me here. That heat was gone now. It would have been better if that heat kept burning like a fire inside me until the moment I died. But it vanished, as if its role was done. As if to betray me.

  “But I’m in a good mood right now,” Kizaki said. “I’ll tell you a little bit. When I stop talking, you die.”

  The lights of the buildings outside the window were being turned off one by one.

  “Why did you lie to get close to me?” I asked.

  Kizaki began tapping his fingers on the table.

  “I wasn’t lying. I own many businesses and organizations, including many orphanages.”

  “What?”

  “Of course I don’t actually go there myself. I’m not the manager of the place. I just give them money. It’s a means to take control of those kids’ lives. Interesting people come from places like that. People like you . . .”

  I stared at Kizaki silently.

  “But, before we get to that, let me tell you one thing. Did you know that there are four versions of the Gospel?”

  What was he saying? I watched him, the gun still pressed against my head.

  “There is this great passage in the Gospels of Mark and Matthew. The words they say Christ screamed when he was nailed to the cross. ‘My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?’ Isn’t that great? Don’t you think? The son of a carpenter was given powers by God. He used those powers to perform miracles, gain many followers and face the ancient forces of the world. But when he was caught and nailed to the cross, he lost all his powers, like it was timed. Even though the very reason he was arrested was the power he had wielded until then. In that crucial moment, there were no miracles. Don’t you think it’s great to imagine the hopelessness Christ must have felt when he was betrayed by God?”

  Kizaki’s smoke climbed silently to the ceiling.

  “Of course, after that, Christ rose from the dead, and it’s presumed he knew he would come back. But then why did he scream ‘why hast thou forsaken me’? It’s strange. What if it wasn’t true? What if he didn’t rise from the dead, and he just died there on that cross? It would become a tragic story. Wouldn’t it? Jesus would just be a man made to dance by God, and then betrayed. But Christianity spread thanks to his death. Just as it’s written in the Bible. The thing about a single grain of wheat. If it doesn’t die, it’s just a single grain. But from its death comes many grains. What I really love about this story is that four hundred years before Christ, something similar happened on this earth. The case of Socrates. I’m sure you know his name at least. He was a Greek philosopher.”

  I had no idea what he was talking about.

  “He could hear voices in his head. That qualified him to become a prophet. But he was such a modest man, he refused that title. He worshipped the existing Greek gods too passionately to start a religion of his own. He became an outcast because of his speculative powers, and ultimately, he was taken to court. He could have pleaded to have his sentence reduced, and gotten by without dying, but instead he forcefully asserted his beliefs. The officials frowned on his behavior, so he was sentenced to death. But what’s most interesting about this story is the quality of the voices Socrates heard.”

  The man behind me pressing the gun to my head did not move at all.

  “Apparently, those voices never told him what to do. They only stopped him from doing things. Socrates was grateful to those voices. He thought they were sacred. He lived his life obeying those voices. When he wanted to do something, if he didn’t hear a voice, he’d do it. If he heard a voice, he’d stop. When he was on tri
al, he didn’t hear any voices. He did not ask for his sentence to be reduced, and even when he expressed his beliefs to the court, the voices did not stop him. He thought his actions followed the will of the gods, so he continued to agitate the judges. But, in the end, he got the death sentence.”

  Kizaki laughed a little.

  “He accepted his death as the will of the gods. He was quite the brave man. And because of his death, his words were passed on to later generations. Don’t you think these cases are remarkably similar? Both were guided by gods, betrayed, and because of their cruel deaths, their names lived on. It’s safe to assume that this kind of thing occurs all the time in this world. Don’t you think the gods are most happy when they do things like that? That’s what I want to do.”

  “What is?” What was he saying?

  “I was carrying out one of my plans. It was going too well, so I wanted to change things up. Then I saw you. Yurika Kajima. You were taken in by the Kashiwagi Orphanage nineteen years ago. Of all the kids, you were the most beautiful girl with the most evil eyes. How perfect. I thought I’d write your story for you. I’d use Hasegawa to call you to the orphanage, and make you grow attached to the children there. At that orphanage, there’s this child there whose face looks just like Shota’s, the kid you tried to save.”

  My chest began to hurt. I still didn’t understand.

  “You would be drawn to that child because of your life experience up until now, and your personal inclinations. You would recall Shota along the way. And then you would begin doing a certain sort of work to save that child. Of course, that is work we planned for you, work that would draw you beautifully, deeply into one part of our plan. You would succeed at that job, and do more work for us. With a little help from us, you’d get through even more dangerous situations. But, in the end, the very end, when you most need help, we’d suddenly forsake you, and you’d die. And if I, the director of the orphanage, showed up then, you wouldn’t understand why. You would have died with a great look on your face. And then, I planned on writing your will, right in front of your eyes.”