Why did she have to say stuff like that about me? I mean, I knew she hated me, but this… Talking about me so spitefully in front of all those people…
My sliver of pride fought down my desire to flee, and I put a hand to the classroom door. I shoved it aside, and the girls turned in unison to look at me.
I gaped at them, pretending I hadn’t heard anything. “Oh, hey, you’re all still here. Hope I’m not interrupting.”
The girls looked away uncomfortably. I went straight to my desk and grabbed my textbook.
“Can you believe I forgot my book? We have the class tomorrow and everything!”
Kotobuki was glowering at me, her face flushed. I turned toward her and smiled for all I was worth.
“I’ll see you, guys!”
The girls bade me a clumsy good-bye.
Kotobuki was the only one who kept her mouth firmly shut, instead continuing to sulk and glare at me.
That was awful. I’m so embarrassed.
I walked down the damp, unlit hallway feeling small and close to breaking.
What does she mean, “a deliberate little smile”?“It’s creepy”?
There were times when it was better to shut up and smile in order to smooth things over, rather than trying to get your own way by clashing with everyone around you or destroying the mood somewhere by giving voice to your unfiltered feelings.
Times when that was all you could do.
And still she called me infuriating.
Not like I’m crazy in love with her, either.
A scream rose up at the back of my throat, along with a lump of heat.
It was different before. Before I…
“Konoha, you look so happy when you smile.”
“And you’re SO easy to read. Whenever you’re depressed or annoyed or scrambling to get something done, it pops right onto your face. You’re just like a puppy.”
If I argued that it was mean of her to call me a dog, she would just giggle, her voice a tinkling bell.
“Look, you’re sticking your lip out again. You are way too easy to read. But I like that about you, Konoha. I can relax when I’m with you.”
When I was in middle school, there was a girl I liked, too. I was in love, just like everybody else.
Just hearing her voice made my heart beat faster. I treated every word she spoke to me as though it were a special treasure, and locked it away in my heart. Before I went to sleep each night, I would take them out and gaze at them, one after another.
That small happiness filled my days. I was always smiling.
But my love, like the Great Gatsby’s, ended in tragedy, and I learned how to lie.
My effort paid off and my “human” act began to be pretty convincing.
The people I know say I’m fun and cheerful and kind.
It was a relief to be degraded and laughed at, but when people told me I was kind, I felt uncomfortable, as if my stomach were convulsing.
I wanted people to think I was good, and so I made babies laugh with a funny face and played with dogs. But when I did those things, my cheeks burned with shame.
Because all of it was a lie. Because I was, in fact, not a kind person in any way. Because I was scamming them.
So every time someone said I was kind, I was overcome by an impulse to cry out, to tear my stomach open and kill myself.
Ignorant of this turmoil inside me, dogs would joyfully wag their tails and trot after me when I patted them on the head. They must have believed I was a kind person.
The girl who told me that she liked me was a little like a dog.
Innocent and cheerful, always laughing brightly. She was very childlike.
How wonderful it would have been to be like that, too.
But part of me hated that peaceful, simple girl.
Tohko had her stockinged feet propped up on a folding chair, turning through the pages of a book as she listened to the rain falling.
Today’s meal was a magnificent hardcover edition of The Iliad, the epic poem by the blind poet Homer chronicling the Trojan War.
Her black braids poured over her shoulders down to her waist like cats’ tails, her long, perfect eyelashes casting a faint shadow over her eyes. One slender finger played with her lips—a habit Tohko had while reading. Sometimes she would nibble on her fingertip.
The dust-caked windowpane was wet with rain. There was no light from the setting sun today.
I stopped in the middle of my writing to ask, “Do you like anybody, Tohko?”
“Hm? What did you say?”
When she was lost in a book, she didn’t really register people talking to her.
“Oh, did you finish my snack already?”
Light broke out across her face. It was so typical of her to let her fixation on food interrupt her reading, despite how much she was focused on her book.
“I asked if there’s anybody you like.”
“Of course there is. Let’s see, Gallico of course, and Dickens, and Dumas, oh and Stendahl, and Chekhov, and Shakespeare, and don’t forget Olcott, and then there’s Montgomery, and Farjeon and Lindgren and MacLachlan and Cartland and Jordan, and also Saikaku and Soseki and Ōgai, and Kenji Miyazawa and Yuichi Kimura, and, and, and…”
Tohko went on and on, looking as if she might start drooling at any moment, until I interrupted. “I’m not talking about food. And who are Cartland and Jordan? Basketball players?”
“You mean you don’t know who Barbara Cartland and Penny Jordan are? They’re both famous romance novel authors. Cartland’s The Key of Love is essential reading. It’s about the daughter of an American oil baron who hides her identity and falls in love with a rich, handsome man.
“And Jordan’s Silver was even made into a comic book. It was a huge hit. I definitely recommend that one, too. The shock of being betrayed by the man she loves turns innocent Geraldine’s hair silver. She decides to get revenge on the evil man, and in order to make him her prisoner, she starts taking superintense lessons in seduction from a handsome tutor. The tutor is a sexy, wonderful guy.”
We were getting further and further off track here…
“Okay, that’s enough. I get it. Tohko, what I meant was… have you ever been in love?”
“Huh?” Tohko cocked her head, bewildered. “In… Lovecraft?”
“No, not Lovecraft. Have you ever had feelings for someone? Not hunger, feelings, as in love, as in a relationship.”
“In that case, I’m always in love.”
“I told you I’m not talking about food. I’m asking if you’ve ever been in love with a person.”
I felt tired. No matter how depressed I was, I’d been an idiot to think I could talk with this girl about romance.
Then I noticed Tohko smirk, a distant look flashing in her eye.
Huh? Where had this mature, serious aura come from? I could practically hear the strains of a noir theme playing in the background. Was it possible that Tohko’s past contained a painful experience with love?
“Well, you see… I’m inside a zone of romantic slaughter.”
“Uhhh, what? What’s that supposed to be?”
I had steeled myself for anything, but a voice strained by incredulity escaped me nonetheless.
Tohko turned a nihilistic gaze to the rain-soaked window and began to tell her story in a matter-of-fact tone that was yet replete with sorrow.
“At the beginning of this year, I asked a lady in Shin—to tell my fortune in love. She told me that I’d been inside a zone of romantic slaughter ever since I was born, and even if I fell in love I would just be spinning my wheels and peril would crash down around me like a raging storm. Even if I were accepted, she said my love would be short-lived and would shatter into hundreds of itty-bitty pieces. So she told me to focus on my studies and hobbies and not even think about falling in love.”
“You mean that lady who sits outside the I—tan department store, who’s always got the big line? You waited to see her?”
“Yeah. Snow had du
sted the city cold and white that day.”
“Why would you go line up on a snowy day?”
“I thought it would be less crowded that way. It only took thirty minutes to get my turn.”
I felt a headache creeping in.
“You wanted the lady in Shin—to tell your fortune that badly?”
“I am a girl, you know. I want to know what my fortunes in love will be, just like anyone else. But to find out I’m in a zone of romantic slaughter… that was hard to hear. Oh, but guess what! She said that the romantic slaughter would end in seven years and then I would meet the man of my destiny!”
Pensive Tohko disappeared in a flash of cheer that filled her face. She leaned forward eagerly.
“She predicted that seven years from now, in the summertime, I would meet a man wearing a white scarf and standing in front of a bear with a salmon in its mouth, and we would fall into a fated love. And she made sure I understood that my love line was shockingly short and that this would be my first and only chance at love, so I had to be sure to make something of it. So unfortunately, I’ve sworn off love for the next seven years.”
“But why would that guy be wearing a scarf in the summer? And if you try flirting innocently in front of a bear, you’re going to get eaten.”
Tohko pouted. “You’ve got no imagination, Konoha.”
“You’ve got too much.”
“Well, I am a book girl.”
“You can’t just wave everything away with that excuse. But you know, never mind. Sorry I interrupted your reading.”
Tohko looked troubled. “Um… did something happen, Konoha?”
“No.”
“Is there… someone you like?”
I looked away.
Rain tapped against the window.
“No, there isn’t someone I like. It’s nothing. That’s the best…”
Nothing happening.
Not having a crush on anybody.
I could live in peace, without pain, or sadness, or disappointment.
I prayed that every day would be that way for the rest of my life.
I was never going to fall in love again.
Tohko looked at me in silence.
One year earlier, when she’d dragged me into the book club, I had often made Tohko look sad. Every single time she made a face like that, I thought how unfair it was, considering what she was like. But still I’d be filled with embarrassed remorse.
“I’m going to go home. Sorry.”
The silence was making me uncomfortable, so I got up, leaving my story half-written.
I opened the rusted locker and saw that the umbrella I’d left there was gone, just as I’d predicted.
“Here.” Tohko held out a pale violet pocket umbrella with a cheerful smile. “I’ve still got your umbrella. You can use this one.”
“What are you going to do, though?”
“Oh, I’ve got my umbrella. A really big one.”
“… I see. Then thank you.”
“Sure thing. See you tomorrow!”
She waved at me, her smile deliberately bright and untroubled.
I opened the umbrella when I stepped through the main entrance, making violets bloom in the gray rain with a pop.
Violet was Tohko’s favorite color. I’d often seen her with handkerchiefs or pencils this same pale purple color.
“The rain doesn’t look like it’s going to let up…”
I stood where I was, holding the umbrella.
I’d known that Tohko was lying. She’d only had one umbrella.
Since starting high school, I’d put on a mask for my classmates and kept some distance between us. Even if I smiled, I wasn’t really smiling. And I had felt small and pathetic when Kotobuki had pointed that out.
But for some reason I could act naturally with Tohko.
Every time I saw Tohko looking sad or troubled, I wished I could smile for her, even if it was fake. But I only managed some inept reassurance. I hated it.
How could I get better at lying?
Could I manage not to get hurt and to not hurt anyone else?
I don’t know how long I stood there waiting for Tohko to come out, gazing up at the cold rain.
I saw a girl in a school uniform run out from behind the building.
Takeda.
She noticed me, too, and stopped.
She gasped and her eyes widened.
Then she whispered hoarsely, “Shuji?”
Huh?
The next moment, she was clinging to me and sobbing.
“What’s wrong, Takeda?”
She didn’t answer, only pressed her dripping face and body against me, circling her arms around my back and wailing. Tears streamed from her eyes, which she kept tightly shut as if in pain.
I was holding my bag and umbrella, so I couldn’t hug her back. Besides, this was the first time this had ever happened to me, and I wasn’t sure what I should do. Had something happened with her and Shuji? I was just about to ask when we heard a voice call out, “Chee!”
It was a boy about my age.
Takeda trembled against my chest when she heard him.
“Chee?”
The voice was coming closer, and from the same direction Takeda had come running from earlier. He sounded troubled somehow. Suddenly, Takeda pulled on my arm.
“T-Takeda, wait…”
Takeda set her jaw and tugged at my arm with a grim expression, pulling me away.
“Takeda, that guy is looking for you. Chee is you, isn’t it?”
“No! Don’t answer!”
She sounded terrified. She pulled me into the school building.
As we went in, I saw a boy carrying a navy blue umbrella go by, turning his head this way and that. But it was only a momentary glimpse, and I couldn’t really see his face.
It wasn’t until we reached the corridor to the back of the school yard that Takeda finally let go of my arm. She huddled into a ball and started to cry, her shoulders shaking.
I told the girl that I would go out with her.
She smiled at me as naively as a puppy.
She had placed an innocent trust in me.
An uncorrupted, pure-hearted, gentle, happy white sheep beloved by God.
I envied her, was repelled by her, but at the same time I couldn’t help but adore her simple effervescence.
But, perhaps, just such a girl might be able to change me.
They say that love changes people.
If so, that girl might be my salvation.
I might become a normal human being, rather than a monster possessing neither love nor kindness.
Oh, how I wish that I could.
I wished it so ardently that my heart seemed on fire.
Let me come to care for that girl.
Even if at first it’s only an act, I know that eventually it would have to become true.
Please—please—let her innocent light deliver me.
But if that girl knew that I had killed someone, would she still love me? Would she still think that I was kind?
I am a monster.
That day, when tender flesh was pulverized and red blood spread its tangy aroma across the black asphalt, I watched with an empty heart.
I had killed a person.
Chapter 3–The First Letter—Shuji Kataoka’s Confession
Shuji.
That’s what Takeda had called me.
She wouldn’t tell me why she’d been crying so hard.
I waited until her tears stopped and then walked her home. As we walked through the rain together under Tohko’s violet umbrella, Takeda kept her eyes down and said nothing. I had stolen a closer look and saw that her eyes were red from crying, and her lip was slightly swollen and tinged with blood. From time to time, she would glance up at me, wary and surreptitious, as if to reassure herself of something, and then would quickly look back down, blinking rapidly.
Finally we reached a two-story house with neatly tended flower beds, and we went our separate ways.<
br />
“Thank you so much for walking me home.”
“No problem. You should go change out of those clothes and warm back up.”
Takeda looked up at me again. She peered at my face as if she saw something written there, then looked back down with tears in her eyes. She ducked in a quick bow and disappeared behind her door.
We were in the first-period break the next morning, and she hadn’t come. I stayed in my seat, constantly glancing over at the door, so when she came into the classroom, my eyes met Kotobuki’s.
Ack, now what?
She looked flustered, too, and though I didn’t move a muscle, she walked over to stand in front of me, her lips pressed thin and tight.
“Here’s your change.”
She stuck a fist out at me brusquely.
“Oh, thanks…. Uh, this is fifty yen.”
Kotobuki had dropped a fifty-yen coin into my hand.
“Isn’t this ten yen too much?”
“I know that. Give me change for my change.”
“Um, sorry, I don’t have any small change right now.”
“Later is fine,” she muttered irritably. She was fidgeting, apparently reluctant to go away just yet. “Chia Takeda’s not coming today, huh?”
“Uh, yeah. I guess not.”
“So yesterday after school… you came back in here all of a sudden, remember? Are you sure you didn’t hear anything?”
She peered at me.
I smiled easily. “Was there something I should have heard?”
Kotobuki’s face flushed an impressive shade of red. “I-if you didn’t hear anything, then never mind.”
She turned her back on me and returned to her desk.
I still had the fifty-yen coin in my hand.
The chime announcing second period rang out gently overhead.
Takeda didn’t come…
She didn’t appear during the second break, either.
I started to worry that she’d caught a cold and stayed home, and I decided to go see how she was. While I hesitated outside Takeda’s classroom, she came through the door herself, laughing with a group of friends.
“Geez, I can’t believe you! You’re awesome, Yoyo! Fine—I’m gonna bake a cake for his birthday and put my whole heart into it! Oh—”
Book Girl and the Suicidal Mime Page 4