Why was it that you became a member of K2? Even coming up with a name for it was intentional. Don’t you think? The doll creator must have wanted to lower people’s resistance to purchasing a doll, even if only a little. To imply you’re not the only one to buy a doll. You’re not the only one who would do something like this. It means there’s no need to worry, because there are lots of other members … But I wonder. There must have been some who, on the contrary, objected to being considered a member of this group.
In your next letter, I want you to be sure to tell me why you became a member of K2. Have you lost someone? Or did you love someone, someone whom you simply couldn’t have? You must know about that stalker guy. How outrageous, asking the doll creator to reproduce a woman who still existed out in the world.
There was no way that he could have her. And yet, he didn’t want to be a nuisance to her either. Of course, it’s not like any of the dolls are made of wood. They’re silicone. You can have sex with them, if you want. I wonder if he’s still living with that doll … It’s repulsive to imagine a life like that, right? But then, isn’t everybody, to varying degrees, restored in some way? I mean, inside their own heads. A person who imagines having sex with a celebrity as they flip through a magazine’s photo spread understands the actual existence of that celebrity, don’t they? The mind makes up for what’s missing. When a woman thinks about a man she loves, she is restoring him in her mind, right? To some extent, the woman tailors the image to suit her. It’s simply one way of putting it—whether it’s in our imagination or as a doll, we as individuals all have the potential to be restored in various ways. Don’t you think?
I mean, in this world there are too many things we want that we can’t have.
… Are you planning to interview the doll creator as well? I figure you’ll go see him even if you end up giving up on this, so I have conditions. There are dos and don’ts about interviewing him. So before you meet with him you must make sure to let me know. Still, even now, I can’t help wondering … How is it that a person like him is able to live his life, without ever violating any laws?
5
AKARI KIHARAZAKA’S APARTMENT. The scent of perfume is in the air.
In the dining room there is a table, with two long white sofas behind it. Between the sofas is a low table. There is no television.
“… So you actually came.”
She smiles as she says this.
“I didn’t think you had the courage.”
With her back to me, she pulls a bottle of wine out of the rack. She is wearing a white blouse over a short black skirt. There is a design on her black stockings. It is a pattern of branches that look like they might strangle something.
She takes her glass and, rather than sit on a chair at the dining table, she sinks down onto the sofa. She hands a glass to me as well. When I take it from her, my fingers brush hers.
“… This seems like expensive wine.”
“Hmm … Does it?”
I begin to feel uncomfortable, so I take out a cigarette. But she murmurs, “No smoking.”
“… Sorry.”
“No. There’s no need to apologize.”
She withdraws a cigarette from her own cigarette case and lights it. She smiles as she looks at me.
“It’s okay for me to. But not for you.”
There is a curtain drawn at the back of the room. I figure her bedroom must be on the other side. I take a sip of wine. The warmth of the alcohol spreads through my body.
“… Kiharazaka’s photo, from a long time ago.”
“Yes, I have it.”
She places an envelope on the low table. She takes out the contents. It is an old photo. A photo of two children.
“… There’s a resemblance.”
“To what?”
“To each other.”
A thin boy and girl are sitting on a bench in a park. The girl is looking somewhere off in the distance, and the boy is looking at the girl. Both of them wear vulnerable expressions. They seem as though they have been mistakenly left behind in the world. The girl has on a dress, and the boy wears a white T-shirt over blue shorts.
“Who took this photo?”
“Someone from the institution … I couldn’t throw it away.”
“It’s a nice photo.”
“Isn’t it? But you can’t put it in the book.”
She takes a sip of wine. I realize that she must have been drunk before I got there.
“… Do you want a cigarette?”
“… No.”
“I see. Well, you can’t smoke.”
She smiles.
“Actually, there is another photo … Yudai sent it to me a while ago. I think he had kept it to himself, this photo of me … I was very surprised.”
“Where is that photo?”
“No,” she says. “I won’t show it to you. I hate that photo. It reveals my true nature … Ruthlessly.”
“Your true nature?… What do you mean?”
“Well …”
She stares at me. With concern. But as if she is trying to draw me in. Softly, she begins to speak.
“You’ve been giving me that look all along.”
I catch my breath. My heart starts to race.
“… What look?”
“Longing. Like you want me … You ask a lot of questions for a coward.”
She settles more deeply into the sofa. Distancing herself a bit from me. Her legs are uncrossed. Gently she smoothes the hem of her skirt.
“Ever since you first saw me … Possibly ever since you first saw my photo. What kinds of things have you been thinking about? Having your way with me, in your own mind?”
“… Have I bothered you?”
“Another question.”
She reaches toward the envelope that is on the table. I grasp her hand. Her cold, slender fingers. She parts her lips.
“But you have someone special … Yukie.”
Instinctively I look at her.
“How do you know that?”
She smiles as she pulls her hand away.
“I investigated. Didn’t you, too? Wouldn’t it be unfair if I were the only one being scrutinized? You shouldn’t be looking at me that way when you have such a special person in your life.”
She keeps looking at me. With concern. Under her blouse, an orange bra shows through.
“… It’s over with her.”
“You’re a bad liar. Bad liars bore me.”
She stands up.
“But anyway, you can’t handle this. I would require a much bigger commitment from you.”
“… What do you mean?”
“Well … It would be bold of you even just to imagine it. Isn’t that right?”
She looks at me with concern again. Then she turns her back on me and walks toward the curtain at the back.
“… Please leave now. I’m going into the bedroom to change.”
She turns around.
“… Or would you force your way into my bedroom?”
She smiles as she says this. I am badly shaken, and she is watching me with pity.
“… Would you grab me while I was changing, strip me, hold me down while I resisted, and make love to me?… Would you kiss me against my will, not caring as I struggled against you, putting your hands all over my body, using such force until I ultimately submit to you … That would be way too much for someone with such a naïve little girlfriend.”
She goes into the bedroom. I stand up and follow her, putting my arms around her from behind. I kiss her. As hard as I can. Her arms wrap around my back. Her tongue moves around gently inside my mouth.
“… I thought you didn’t want me to.”
She pulls her lips away to speak.
“If you do all those things to me, I won’t let you go. Not until you are completely ruined.”
She looks at me as if she pities me for being as worked up as I am. With that same look on her face, she brings her lips close to mine again. Her tongue intertw
ines with mine. She keeps her eyes narrowly open and, while continuing to stare at me, she kisses me as if she were inhaling me. I caress her breasts. Her scent wafts through the room. I let my lips trail across her neck. She unfastens the belt on my pants.
“You’ll hate me soon enough. You’re still not ready for this.”
As she speaks, she touches my penis. Caringly, as if she is even more concerned about my penis. Watching with studied amazement, now that I am so erect. She moves her fingers up and down.
“If you leave that girl Yukie, I’ll do it for you. I’ll do anything for you. But … not today.”
She keeps moving her fingers. Warmth and pleasure rise up. Her tongue darts into my mouth again.
“Do you like it like this? Or this way?”
Her lovely slender fingers entwine around my penis, tightening as they move up and down. It becomes impossible for me to keep a thought in my head. The pleasure builds up in my penis. I bury my face in her breasts.
“If we keep at this …”
“Go ahead and come.… Come! Come like a fool.”
She murmurs in my ear. She places a towel over me, while she continues to move her hand. The movement of her fingers becomes intense. My breathing is ragged, I can’t take it any longer. I try to stop her hand, but she won’t let me. We kiss again and again. The pleasure intensifies, and I close my eyes. I ejaculate into her long slender fingers and the towel. My body quivers faintly with lingering pleasure. She strokes my face, and kisses my ear.
“… Feel better? Now go home.”
She is still smiling as she pulls away from me and stands up. She looks down at me.
“Come back again … And,” her breath catches a little, “save me.”
6
THE LIGHTS IN the room are glaring on the transparent acrylic glass.
Yudai Kiharazaka looks tired again today. He wears a black sweat suit, the same as last time. He is looking straight at me with his lifeless eyes.
—… I had a lot of things I wanted to say if I ever saw you again.
Again, he manages not to change any part of his expression besides his mouth.
—But there’s something more important.… Have you met with my sister?
Behind him, there is a guard in uniform this time as well. He is not the same man as before.
“Yes … Because I’m writing the book about you.”
—Is that all?
Suddenly I can feel the movement of her fingers. Her long slender fingers. I can also feel her breath. And the warmth of her body.
“… That’s all.”
—That’s a lie … Are you … prepared?
I maintain contact with his lifeless eyes. I can feel the pressure—I want to look away but I hold out.
“… What do you mean?”
—You don’t know about my sister … She’s not the kind of woman you can just simply flirt with. Two men are dead because of her. So far.
My heart starts to race. I have the feeling that he is looking directly at my chest. As if he is trying to ascertain how fast my heart is beating. Her fingers grip around me again.
“… Dead?”
—Suicides. My sister drove them to it. I don’t know the details though. There must be more of them who attempted suicide, who didn’t die … Quite the siblings we are, huh? You’re in danger too.
The smell of disinfectant wafts up from the cold floor. As though no matter how persistently someone has tried to kill whatever germs are there, they still refuse to be eliminated.
—I try to capture a person’s true nature in a photograph. My sister … she stimulates a person’s true nature, and throws it into disarray. In a way, I’m probably no different. My sister wants everything from a person. And when she’s gone, the man is ruined … These men give up everything for my sister, and she sucks them dry, and tosses them aside … She’s a looker, isn’t she? My sister.
“… She’s alluring.”
—Right. You probably think that you’ve never met anyone like her in your life … I want my sister to be happy. But it will never happen. I doubt she will ever be happy, or that anyone around her will ever be happy either.
I am aware of the prohibited recorder I am carrying.
“She showed me … a photograph. A photo of you and Akari when you were kids.”
—… I was in it?
“Yes. You were.”
—I have no interest. If I’m in the photo, then I didn’t take it, right? So it means nothing to me.
He lets out his breath. Still he doesn’t shift his expression.
—… But it’s strange. That my sister likes you, I mean. You don’t seem like her type … I wonder what has changed in her life.
Suddenly, my reflection in the acrylic glass overlaps with his face. I look away. “Save me.” I haven’t been able to get what she said out of my mind. Her scent is still on my neck.
“Is Akari … is she in some kind of trouble?”
—Hm?… It wouldn’t surprise me if she were. She’s the sister of a murderer. I’ve only made things worse for her.
I wonder if that is all. I have the feeling it is something else. It doesn’t seem like it is just some kind of abstract wish for me to save her from herself.
“But other than that, something more tangible.”
—… Did she say something to you about it?
“No, I just …”
The man is staring at me.
—… She made some bitter remarks to the bereaved families and … she has a lot of enemies. That’s why she’s living like she is, in hiding. Even though she had nothing to do with what I did, well, for instance, there are still the families of the men who committed suicide … Taking sides with my sister means everyone else becomes your enemy … But that’s not what I meant by being prepared. Will you promise me something?
There is a flicker of strength in his eyes. It is only the slightest shift, however, there is definitely emotion behind it.
—Whatever happens, I want you to stay by my sister’s side. Whatever happens. Even if she goes into a hysterical rage, even if she has an episode.
“… An episode?”
—Yeah, you really don’t know what you’re dealing with yet … If you’re not willing to take on everything that comes along with her, then I don’t want to see you again. Take it or leave it. But you ought to see the photograph I took of her. See her brutal past … I don’t know if you could take it. Me, or my sister.
His expression quickly returns. Back to apathy.
—… When you’re involved with my sister and me, you … Will you be swallowed up, and lose yourself?
7
I AM READING through the archives, but my brain isn’t processing them.
Of course it must be because I am drinking. I leave the archives on the desk and lie down on the bed. I can hear my neighbor coughing on the other side of the wall. It sounds like a painful cough, one that will dislodge something from deep within. He coughs again and again; it goes on without end. Wanting to get away from the noise of his coughing, I roll over. Keenly aware of the stranger who is just on the other side of the wall, I suddenly get the creeps.
My cell phone rings, and looking at the screen, I see that it is Yukie. I wonder why I didn’t turn off the ringer. The high-pitched hard sound echoes within my small apartment.
Yukie will never be happy with me. She should just get rid of me and find someone new, I think selfishly. I no longer even know whether I love her. I want her to be happy, but no sooner do I have the thought than the intensity of my feelings is likely to disappear.
But the world around me keeps moving, regardless of my will. The phone doesn’t stop ringing. As if it’s reproaching me for running away.
I turn on my computer and look at Internet news I care nothing about. I read the biased comments written below the articles, and look away when they make me sick. The phone keeps ringing. The sound reverberates through my cramped apartment. I take a sip of whiskey and light a cigare
tte. I can no longer hear the coughing from the apartment next door. It is almost as though the guy is holding his breath while he listens to my phone ringing. As if he has stopped his coughing and is patiently, resentfully waiting. “Save me.” I remember Akari Kiharazaka’s voice. While the phone rings, I feel her fingers on me, hear her voice. As if she is right in front of me. The phone stops ringing.
In the now quiet apartment, my heart has started to race slightly. Through the wall I can hear the coughing start back up again. I get up, consciously draw in my breath, and grab my exhausted-looking cell phone. When I touch it, the overworked device still retains the slightest heat. I call the publisher. I want to investigate Akari Kiharazaka further. I need more time. I have the guy with a deep voice who answers the phone call the editor who is in charge. He isn’t there. That’s how it always is with them, I think. Despite the ridiculous number of times the editor called to hound me to take on the project, whenever I try to reach him, I can never get him on the line. He doesn’t even have a cell phone. I have no choice but to send him an email; he always takes forever to reply.
I am thinking about visiting the children’s institution where Akari Kiharazaka had lived. I wonder if anyone who was there at the time will still be around. Her scent spreads across my chest. I wonder why she seduced me.
Just then the doorbell rings.
The sound seems too loud for my quiet apartment. My heart starts to race a little again. Could it be Yukie? I wonder as I approach the door. But it could be Akari Kiharazaka, I think. What will I do if it is her? Most likely I will lose any hesitation the moment I see her. I’ll let her into the apartment and probably throw her onto the bed. If she tries to tease me or laugh, I’ll show her my dark side.
Amid the contemptuous roar of the rest of the world, together she and I …
I look out through the peephole. As if I am a criminal peering out at the money I am about to steal. There is a man I don’t know standing there.
Before I know it, I am opening the door. After I have done so, I realize I haven’t latched the chain. Just what do I intend to do if this guy turns out to be dangerous? But the man just stares at me, without trying to come inside. He is wearing a grey coat over a navy blue suit.
Last Winter We Parted Page 4