Villain a Novel (2010)

by Yoshida Shuichi

  She wasn’t shopping for anything in particular, but she stopped first in the bookstore. At the front of the store was a shelf of bestsellers and she picked up one, a love story that had been made into a movie, but just thinking about work the next day made her put it down again. She left the bookstore and went to the CD store. She picked up a copy of Yuji Fukuyama’s song “Sakurazaka,” which she heard a lot on the background music at work, but after toying with the idea of buying it, she put it back.

  From the window of the CD store, she could see outside. Her bike was parked there, and somebody had thrown an empty juice can into her basket. For a moment everything looked blurry, and that’s when she realized she was crying. Mitsuyo ran out of the store, looked for a restroom, and dashed inside. She had no idea why she was crying. It wasn’t because somebody had thrown an empty can in the basket of her bike.…

  There were no books or CDs she wanted. A new year had just begun, but there was no place she wanted to go, no one she wanted to meet.

  She went into a stall and couldn’t stand it anymore. Tears gushed out and she realized she was bawling.

  Now Mitsuyo gazed at the sea, unconcerned about the freezing wind blowing up from the cliff. The sky, clear during the day, was suddenly covered with thick clouds. If the temperature dropped any more, she thought, tonight might be the first snowfall of the year.

  She sensed something behind her. Turning around, she saw Yuichi, hunched up against the cold.

  “You’d better go to the convenience store before it gets dark.”

  Yuichi came over and stood beside her, leaning out and looking down at the cliff. She saw his prominent Adam’s apple in the faint evening sun shining through the clouds.

  “Yuichi, if I hadn’t asked you to run away with me, would you have gone to the police?”

  The question came out all of a sudden, but she’d been thinking about it for several days now. Staring at the cliff, Yuichi was quiet. “I don’t know,” he said, but no matter how long she waited, he didn’t elaborate.

  “There’s one thing I’d like to make sure of.”

  Yuichi tensed up a bit at her words.

  “You didn’t make me run away with you. I wanted you to take me with you. If anybody ever asks you, I want you to tell them that.”

  Yuichi frowned, uncertain. Mitsuyo felt as if she’d just said goodbye and buried her face in his chest.

  “Until I met you,” she said, “I never realized how precious each day could be. When I was working, each day was over before I knew it, and then a week just flew by, and then a whole year.… What have I been doing all this time? Why didn’t I meet you before? If I had to choose a whole year in the past, or a day with you—I’d choose a day with you.…”

  As he stroked her hair, she began to cry. Yuichi’s hand, just out of his pocket, was warm as a blanket.

  “I’d choose a day with you, too, Mitsuyo. That’s all I ever need.… But I can’t do anything for you. I wanted to take you to all kinds of places, but I can’t take you anywhere.”

  Mitsuyo pressed her cheek against his chest.

  “I wonder how many more days we can be together,” Yuichi mumbled sadly. And right after that, a single flake of snow landed on the handrail and melted away.

  Powdery snow suddenly began to fall onto the pavement and melted. Keigo Masuo was walking down the sidewalk, and when it started snowing, he halted and looked up at the sky.

  Before he knew it, the world was covered with powdery snow. The overcast Hakata streets seemed to fade out of focus. A mailbox nearby looked far away, while the high-rise building across the street loomed closer.

  Yoshio Ishibashi, following him, kept about ten yards back. Between them, countless powdery snowflakes fluttered down from the sky.

  With each step, Yoshio had to suppress the desire to rush forward. Keigo had no idea he was being followed, and continued walking, one hand thrust in his jeans pockets, his shoulders hunched against the cold.

  Two days earlier, Yoshio had surprised himself and run out of his home in Kurume.

  This college student who had kicked Yoshino out of his car on top of Mitsuse Pass lived on the top floor of a luxurious building. Yoshio had ridden the elevator to the eighth floor. As he rode up, he felt the weight of the wrench concealed in his pocket. The door to Keigo’s condo had a bell but Yoshio knocked. He knocked at the thick front door over and over. “Come out, you! Come out!” he yelled.

  But no matter how much he knocked, the door remained shut, and he suddenly realized his nose was pressed again it and he was sobbing.

  “Come out.… Nobody’s going to make fun of my Yoshino and get away with it.…”

  There was no sound from the other side of the door.

  Fighting back his tears, Yoshio stepped away. He got in the elevator, and as he did, the whole scene rushed back at him: Yoshino being kicked out of the car at Mitsuse Pass. He slammed his fist against the elevator door.

  He hadn’t come here to grill the boy about why he’d abandoned Yoshino. Asking that wouldn’t bring her back. No, he’d come as a father, a man who couldn’t let anyone break his daughter’s heart. All he wanted was to protect her feelings.

  Yoshio went out to his car, parked in front of the condo, and called his wife on his cell phone.

  “I won’t be back tonight, but don’t worry,” he said in a rush of words. “I’ll be back as soon as I finish up what I need to do here.”

  After a pause, Satoko asked, “Where are you?”

  “Hakata,” Yoshio answered.

  After more silence she said, “Okay. Be sure to come home as soon as you’re done.”

  It was snowing harder than before. Keigo almost skipped along and, ignoring the red light, crossed at the intersection.

  Yoshio tightened his grip on the wrench in his pocket. As he stepped into the crosswalk, he nearly collided with a taxi making a left turn, and the driver blasted his horn. Yoshio came close to falling, but pushed hard against the bumper of the cab and managed to keep his balance.

  The taxi driver rolled down his window. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he shouted angrily. Two high school girls, wrapped in mufflers and waiting for the light to change, stared. Keigo, already on the other side of the street, glanced back for a moment at the commotion.

  Yoshio ignored the driver and took off after Keigo. The driver went on blaring his horn.

  When he got to the other side of the street, Keigo was far away. Yoshio sped along in the snow. The wrench banged against his ribs as he ran, the snowflakes melting on his face forming lines of water down from his eyes, like tears.

  Just then, Keigo noticed the approaching footsteps and turned around. Yoshio rushed toward him and Keigo edged backward. “What the …?” he said.

  Yoshio stood right in front of Keigo, his ragged breath white in the air. Yoshio was struck by how tall the young man was, or rather, how short he himself was. But he stood his ground, glaring up at Keigo, who was glaring down at him.

  “Are you Keigo Masuo?” Yoshio asked, more loudly than he needed to.

  “Who are you, old man?”

  Keigo took a step back. Yoshio stuck his hand in his pocket and felt the heavy wrench.

  “Yoshino died because of you.”

  “What?”

  “My precious daughter died because of you.”

  Yoshio glared up at him, unblinking. A flash of fear crossed Keigo’s eyes.

  “Why the hell did you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Why did you—abandon Yoshino at the pass!”

  At Yoshio’s angry shout, a cat appeared from behind a light pole, bristled, and scampered off.

  “What are you talking about?”

  Keigo tried to run off but Yoshio grabbed his arm. Keigo attempted to twist away.

  “I didn’t kill her! I didn’t do anything!” Keigo broke free from his grasp, but as he did, his elbow struck Yoshio hard in the face. Everything turned blank and Yoshio fell to his knees. Still
, he managed to grab Keigo by the legs to keep him from escaping.

  “Let me go! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Keigo roughly tried to shake free. His knees scraped the ground and a dry pain shot through him. Keigo tried to walk, dragging Yoshio behind him.

  “Let me go!” he yelled.

  At that instant all the strength drained out of Yoshio’s arms. Keigo slipped free and almost instinctively kicked him in the shoulder. Yoshio flew out horizontally and hit his head on the guardrail of the street with a dull thud.

  “I didn’t do anything!” Keigo said again. He looked furious and he bolted down the street. In the increasingly white world that surrounded him, Yoshio lay there watching his retreating figure.

  “Wait.… You have to apologize to Yoshino.…” He’d meant to shout this, but all that came out was white breath. Keigo had disappeared into the swirling snow. A single cold flake of snow landed on Yoshio’s eyelashes and melted.

  “Yoshino … Daddy’s not going to give up.”

  As his consciousness grew dim, he could see Yoshino as a young child, toddling along.… Where is this place? Some ferryboat dock? There’s the sea over there. And Yoshino’s running across a huge parking lot. She’s holding a snack, some chikuwa from one of the stands, and she’s running toward the sea.

  “Are you all right?”

  Just as he was starting to lose consciousness, he heard a voice. A young man put his arms around Yoshio and helped him to his feet.

  “Can you stand?”

  “That guy … you have to … chase him.…”

  As he made this desperate plea, the young man looked in the direction that Keigo had vanished in.

  “Why … why do you need to chase Keigo?” the young man asked uneasily.

  Nearby a black crow was pecking at a bag of garbage. As it tried to tug the bag along the ground, the garbage became covered in snow.

  The pitch-black crow shook its head as it tore open the convenience-store bag. A crumpled wrapping for a bento flew out of the hole in the bag. A light layer of snow covered the asphalt, dotted with the crow’s footprints. As it spread its wings, they brushed against the glass of the phone booth.

  With the freezing receiver held to her ear, Mitsuyo lightly tapped the glass with her foot, hoping to drive the crow away. Startled, the bird leaped back a step, the plastic bag in its beak.

  “Hello? Hello? Who’s calling?” Tamayo asked cautiously.

  “Sorry I haven’t gotten in touch.”

  “Mi—Mitsuyo? Where are you? Why haven’t you called me? Are you by yourself? Are you okay?”

  Mitsuyo couldn’t get in an answer to this flurry of questions. “Calm down, okay?” she managed to say.

  “What do you mean, calm down? Do you have any idea how panicked I’ve been? They said you’ve been taken away by a murderer. Please—tell me you’re all right! Is that guy with you?”

  “No, I’m alone right now.”

  “Good. But you have to run away. Right this instant! Where are you? I’ll call the police!”

  “Take it easy, all right?”

  Tamayo sounded as if she really was going to call the police at any minute. That made sense, Mitsuyo thought. Ever since the night that Yuichi half dragged her away in his car, after she’d told Tamayo not to worry, they had exchanged a few e-mails, but she never answered Tamayo’s questions about what was going on. They’d kept this up until her cell-phone battery died.

  “Are you really alone?” Tamayo asked again. “If you really are, then I want you to say Call the police right away.”

  “What’re you talking about?”

  “If that murderer isn’t with you, say it.”

  Tamayo was serious, so Mitsuyo gave in and repeated the line. “The guy I’m with,” she added. “He really isn’t an evil person, you know.”

  From the other end of the line, she heard a disgusted sigh.

  According to Tamayo, detectives had been staking out their parents’ house. The police were convinced that Yuichi had forced Mitsuyo to go with him, and after the New Year’s TV programs ended and regular programming started up again, the talk shows began showing scenes of Mitsuyo and Tamayo’s apartment building, though they blurred out the name, and they didn’t give the sisters’ names or show their photos. The investigation was progressing better than they’d expected.

  As she listened to Tamayo, Mitsuyo thought of Yuichi, back on the logging road. I’m fine going to the convenience store myself, she’d told him, asking him to stay back in the shack, but Yuichi was worried about her going alone and he had accompanied her down the hill, where he was hiding now in the bushes. The snow must be piling up in those bushes, too, she thought.

  “But he really didn’t force you to go with him, did he?” Tamayo asked.

  “No, he didn’t,” Mitsuyo answered firmly.

  “So what are you planning to do? How can you stay with a person like that?”

  Mitsuyo had no idea how to respond. Tamayo broke the silence and said, tearfully, “My God, of all people in the world, why did you have to choose a murderer?”

  “Tamayo?”

  The crow outside had flown off somewhere, its footprints filling with newly fallen snow.

  “I did something terrible, didn’t I.…” Mitsuyo said.

  On the other end of the line Mitsuyo could hear her sister gulp. “If you know that,” Tamayo said, “then you’d better—”

  “But this is the first time in my life I’ve felt this way. I want to be with him, even if it’s just one more day.”

  “You want to be with him? That’s a little self-centered, don’t you think?”

  “Huh?” Mitsuyo clutched the receiver tighter.

  “I hope you’re not telling me you want to run away with this guy. No matter how much you love him, you can’t tie him down with the way you feel. It’ll be painful, but if you really love him you have to take him in to the police. The more you two run away, the more guilty he’ll be.”

  Before she realized it, Mitsuyo pressed the hook with her numb finger. All she heard now was an inorganic whoosh of the dial tone. Tamayo hadn’t told her anything she didn’t already know. She hadn’t expected her sister to understand, but the conversation had only reinforced what she expected—that no one else was on their side.

  It had stopped snowing when she left the phone booth.

  Leaving footprints behind in the light dusting of snow, she headed for the convenience store across the street. She’d already bought their food, but she’d seen a ¥480 pair of gloves and she wanted to go back and buy them for Yuichi.

  You can’t tie him down with the way you feel.

  Tamayo’s words, and her own footprints, followed her.

  The parking lot of the convenience store was empty except for one lone car, its engine running. The exhaust from the tailpipes was as white as cotton. Normally she would have noticed it right away, but perhaps because she’d been unsettled by Tamayo’s words, or perhaps because the car blended into the snow, she didn’t see right away that it was a patrol car. The moment she did, her legs went weak, and she couldn’t move.

  The heat inside the store clouded the windows, and she couldn’t see inside. Still, she could barely make out a figure at the register that looked like a policeman.

  He’s coming out. The policeman’s coming out.

  She tried as hard as she could to walk away, but her legs wouldn’t move. As the automatic doors slid open, she finally was able to walk. There was still some distance between her and the policeman. She was just about to glance back when someone tapped her on the shoulder.

  “Excuse me,” a man’s voice said, close by.

  She turned and found herself face to face with a young patrolman. His hat was lightly covered with snow. His nose was red in the cold, his breath forming a cloud that almost hid his face.

  “Is something wrong?” the patrolman asked.

  He smiled at her. He seemed to have been watching Mitsuyo from behind and saw h
ow she had stood there, stock-still, on the road.

  “No …”

  She turned her face away and strode off. At that instant the patrolman’s eyebrows, stiff in the cold, twitched.

  “Hold on a minute. You’re Miss Magome, aren’t you?”

  Mitsuyo, about to break into a run, felt these words behind her. A truck drove past. The ruts in the snowy road led straight to where Yuichi was waiting for her on the logging road.

  Yuichi… Mitsuyo called out silently.

  The ruts in the snowy road led to a narrow alley. The sunlight and shade cut the road neatly in two, with only the snow on the sunny half dazzling in the light.

  Fusae bent over and walked straight ahead, so as to stay within the space between the ruts. Once out of the alley there was the pier, and past that the bus stop. She’d checked the bus schedule. Now if the bus would only come on time.

  “Do you have a comment for us?”

  “How do you feel now? Any feelings for the victim’s family?”

  “Yuichi really hasn’t gotten in touch with you?”

  “Do you know the girl he ran away with?”

  Fusae stared at her feet, avoiding the cameras and reporters surrounding her. The spot in the snow where she was about to step next had been trampled down, leaving behind a dark footprint.

  There’d been only a scattering of reporters up till now, but this morning they suddenly multiplied. Last night she’d talked to Norio on the phone, and he’d said they’d finally released Yuichi’s photo. Right after talking with him, the phone rang again. She was sure it was Norio, but it was yet another threatening call from the health-food people. “Listen, old woman, you haven’t transferred the money to us yet!” the voice on the other end growled.

  Fusae hung up immediately, but the phone rang every fifteen minutes until after midnight. Fusae put the futon over her head to block out the sound. More than anything, she felt frustrated at her own fear spilling over into tears.