Villain a Novel (2010)

by Yoshida Shuichi

  Yuichi’s at the lighthouse, waiting for me. I know he’s waiting for me. Have I ever had a place like this before, ever? And I can make it there.… If I can only make it, I’ll be with the one who loves me. In all my thirty years, have I ever had a place like this? But I’ve found it now. And that’s where I’m heading.

  Mitsuyo grabbed at the cold branches with her numb hands and climbed up the wet rocks.

  On this day the temperature in the northern part of Kyushu fell below zero degrees centigrade. At five p.m. the decision was made to temporarily lower the speed limit on the entire Kyushu Expressway. Chains were required for cars driving through the mountains and fog started to envelop the cities. The evening news announced that a snowstorm was coming that night and reporters feared that traffic would grind to a halt. It was after five-thirty when Mitsuse Pass was closed to traffic. This announcement scrolled across the TV screen during the entertainment-news report and soon disappeared.

  Just around that time, an old woman showed up at a police station in a small harbor town. She explained that twenty minutes before, a young woman had crossed through her garden and gone up into the hills behind. The patrolman, terribly pale looking, took down her report and hurriedly spread a map before him. Today, for some reason, this sleepy harbor town was crawling with police.

  Up the hill behind the old woman’s house was a lighthouse that was no longer being used. The assembled policemen’s fingers rested on top of the map.

  “I asked where she was going but she went into the hills without even looking around once.”

  The policemen didn’t hear this last explanation from the old woman, for they were already out the door.

  Around the same time, Yuichi had decided to come down off the mountain and was packing up the sleeping bag inside the caretaker’s shack. He knew he’d be arrested if he came down to the town, and wouldn’t have a chance to ever use the sleeping bag, but still he shouldered it. With the candles out, the shack was dark, though he could see his cold white breath.

  Once he came out of the shack, the disturbance in the town below was louder. The police cars that had been scattered about the town had now formed a line of red lights headed up from the foot of the hills to the lighthouse.

  Yuichi went limp. He could barely stand.

  And then it happened. Branches in the dark thicket shook, and he heard Mitsuyo, feebly calling out his name. “Mitsuyo!” he yelled out.

  “Yuichi!” she called back. Branches shook and snow slipped from the leaves. Yuichi leaped over the fence and raced into the dark thicket. Mitsuyo’s hair was full of dead leaves and twigs, her fingertips were bloody, her eyes wet with tears.

  “I couldn’t leave you, Yuichi.”

  Yuichi blew on her frozen, numb hands.

  “I … I escaped. I couldn’t stand to say goodbye.…”

  Yuichi stroked her chilled body. Mitsuyo’s cheeks were so frozen even his own cold hands felt warm.

  He put his arms around her and was leading her back into the shack when Mitsuyo saw the line of patrol cars heading up the logging road and stopped short. The red lights were getting closer to the lighthouse. Sirens echoed through the hills. Yuichi gave Mitsuyo a little shove.

  Inside the shack, Yuichi took the sleeping bag from his bag and spread it out. He tried to get Mitsuyo to sit down, for she was clearly exhausted, but she clung to his neck. The sirens were nearer.

  “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t help you. I’m so sorry,” Mitsuyo sobbed aloud as she clung to him. “I knew you were going to get arrested, and yet I begged you … to run away with me.… If only I hadn’t been so selfish.…”

  Yuichi held her close as she sobbed.

  “I couldn’t help you at all,” she cried, “but you stayed with me.… I’m such a terrible woman, yet you’re still holding me.… Don’t say anything, just hold me.… It’s so hard—so hard when you’re kind to me like this. I hate myself—I never did anything for you. I’m terrible … terrible. I told you to go to the police then.… And then I stopped you. God, I’m so awful.”

  Yuichi listened. As her cries became louder, so did the sirens. The line of patrol cars was drawing nearer the lighthouse.

  Yuichi finally had to peel Mitsuyo away from him. For a moment she stood there, trying to bury her face in his chest, but Yuichi refused to let her. He refused and stood staring right into her wet eyes.

  A red light shone through the window of the caretaker’s shack, dyeing Mitsuyo’s wet face red. When she noticed the light, Mitsuyo tried again to cling to Yuichi. Footsteps drew nearer.

  “I’m not … the kind of guy you think I am,” Yuichi said, and roughly pushed Mitsuyo away, and she fell to the plywood board.

  Mitsuyo’s short cry echoed in the room. The policemen’s flashlights shone in from the far window, the beams crisscrossing each other. And right then, Yuichi straddled Mitsuyo and laid his cold hands on her neck.

  Mitsuyo, wide-eyed, tried to shout. Yuichi closed his eyes and squeezed her neck hard. Behind him, the door slammed open and flashlights shone on the two of them.

  Let me see, now, when was that? It was when I still looked forward to the homemade lunches he made for me, so it must have been not long after we met.… We were eating the lunches in one of the private rooms and talking about something, I don’t remember what. Oh—yes I do. It was about our mothers.

  I’d totally forgotten about that, but after he was arrested they had all those talk shows about him on TV. And that jogged my memory. His mother was on one of those shows and she nearly tore the head off the interviewer, she was so angry. “I’ve been punished enough!” she shouted. And when I saw that, I suddenly remembered what we talked about back then.

  I was raised by my mom, just her and me, and it might sound strange considering what I do for a living, but the last thing I wanted to do was worry my mother. And when I told him that, he got all serious and said, “Don’t tell anybody else, but every time I see my mom I’m always pestering her for money.”

  A pretty ordinary story, I thought, and gave some noncommittal response. But he looked so serious and probably felt bad, like he wanted to apologize or something. Really, though, it sounded like it was going to be a boring story.

  Then he said something unexpected. “It hurts to pester her for money I don’t really need.”

  So I went, “Then you shouldn’t do it.” I laughed but he thought for a while and then he said, “Yeah, but both of us have to be victims.”

  At first I didn’t get it and was going to ask him what he meant, but right then our time was up and the phone rang.

  That was it. He brought me lunches many times after that but never mentioned his mother again.

  In the news they’ve been running stories about him and the confessions, I guess you’d call them, of that girl who was with him to the end, the one he nearly killed. Playing these stories up big, right? Every time I see these, it still gets me. His face when he said that. Yeah, but both of us have to be victims.

  It makes me kind of want to meet that woman, the one from Saga he took with him. Something about the way he looked back then, I just can’t shake it.

  I know meeting her isn’t going to change anything. Maybe if I send him a letter or something.… On second thought, I shouldn’t get involved.…

  Maybe it’s like he said in his confession, that at the pass, and at the lighthouse, he was carried away by this sudden urge to kill. Maybe he really is that kind of person.…

  I finally opened my little diner, but had to close it last month. I guess luck wasn’t on my side. I got sick soon after we opened.… So now I’m back at my old job. I used all my savings to open that shop, and after I closed it, I needed money to live on.… It makes me kind of scared when I consider my age, but I couldn’t think of anything else to do.

  It’s like I told you. I don’t have anything more to add, or anything I want to correct.

  I get a kick from driving women into a corner. When I see women like that, scared and suffering,
it turns me on. I never noticed it before, but I think I always had those feelings inside me. My first confession was what the reporters picked up on and ran with. But I did say those things. And I am that kind of man.

  I didn’t chase after Yoshino Ishibashi because I was planning to kill her. We’d made a date, but then she told me she didn’t have time for me. And then she got into another guy’s car right in front of me. One word of apology from her, that’s all I wanted.… So I followed her, and when I got to the pass she’d been kicked out of the other car.… I tried to help her, but she refused, said she was going to the police, and before I knew what was happening I’d strangled her.

  Maybe it was like that detective told me, that maybe when I was strangling her I realized for the first time I get sexually aroused by women who are suffering. And that’s why I didn’t turn myself in, but went looking for another girl. Mitsuyo Magome just happened to get in touch with me right then, so I made a date to meet up with her.

  When they arrested her, Miss Magome apparently said she went with me of her own free will, but I think it’s because I intimidated her and psychologically backed her into a corner. I told her how I murdered Miss Ishibashi, and I think she understood what an evil person I am, that she couldn’t escape, and that made her submit to me.

  In fact, Miss Magome did exactly what I told her, and since I didn’t have any money it worked out well to have her along.

  She stood by me, apparently testifying that “I was never intimidated or treated roughly,” but I think that’s also like the detective said, that even after she was freed she couldn’t shake off her terror. You could turn that around and say it confirms what I said: that I used fear to control her.

  The whole time we were together, she was jumpy. Everywhere we went—when I told her about how I killed Yoshino, when I forced her to go to a love hotel with me, when she sat in the passenger seat of my car, when we arrived at the lighthouse. She was nervous and scared, and that got me excited.

  The detective told me how my grandfather died the morning after I was arrested. He did his best to raise me, and I feel awful about putting him through all this in his final hours.

  I feel sorry for my grandma, too, for what I did. I heard how she went to visit both families—the Ishibashis and the Magomes—to apologize. And how they refused to see her …

  My grandma’s a timid person who can’t do anything on her own, and it hurts to think about that.… My grandparents are totally innocent in all this. Totally …

  I wrote a letter to Yoshino’s parents, but didn’t get a reply. Not that I should expect one. Or I guess I should say I know I don’t have the right to send them a letter. I can apologize all I want, but it’ll never be enough, I know that. Doesn’t matter the reasons behind what I did, the fact remains that I did something that can never be undone. I think I should die in order to apologize to them. That’s the only thing a person like me can do. But until that day, all I can do is put my hands together in prayer to beg their forgiveness, and keep on apologizing.

  I did bad things to Miss Magome, too, I know that, and if the police had shown up a few minutes later, she might have ended up like Yoshino. I’m absolutely sure of this. From the first moment I met her, I may have been imagining that scene, and those feelings.

  I’ve said this over and over, but I never liked Miss Magome. She was a source of funds for me when I was on the run, so I pretended to like her. And as I did, I think I started to deceive myself into thinking I really did feel that way about her.

  Now when I rethink it, I realize it didn’t have to be Miss Magome. It didn’t necessarily have to be her.…

  If I hadn’t met her, though …

  If I never had met her, I don’t know …

  That night, when Yoshino shouted, “I’m going to report this to the police!” I could have insisted that she was lying, but I didn’t think anybody would believe me. Like no one in the entire world would trust what I say. That terrified me, and I ended up doing what I did. But somehow I couldn’t admit deep down to myself what I’d done.… Which is how I wound up taking the coward’s way out and running away …

  But it’s different now. There are people now who believe what I say. I understand that. So I can admit it now, that I’m a murderer. I’m the man who killed Yoshino and dragged Miss Magome along with me.… I can just come right out and say it.

  Can I say one more thing?

  I heard that Miss Magome was able to go back to her job. Is that true?

  I guess I won’t be able to see her again, right?

  I know it sounds stupid coming from me, but I want to tell her to forget all about this, as quickly as she can.… And tell her to find her own kind of happiness … Could you tell her that for me? I won’t see her ever again, but it would be enough for me if you told her that.

  I know she must hate me and doesn’t want to hear anything I say, but if you’d just—just tell her that, that would be enough.…

  I’m living in our apartment with my younger sister again. Everybody at work has been very helpful, and I’ve been able to go back to work this month.

  Things are back to normal. My life’s the same as it was before I met that man.

  Right after the news broke, reporters were trying to force their way into my parents’ house, and I didn’t know what to do. But now I get up every morning at eight, pedal my bike to work, come back to the apartment in the evening, and make dinner with my sister.…

  On the last holiday I did something I haven’t done in a long while—I bought a CD of a singer I like at the shopping center in the neighborhood. I think I’m getting calmer these days.

  I’ve heard all kinds of things from the detectives about what that guy said, ever since he was arrested. Of course I didn’t believe it at first. About him saying he liked to make women suffer and that he took me along just to get money out of me.

  I couldn’t believe any of it, no matter how much I heard. But finally I understood that I was the one who was really flipping out here. That like an idiot, I’d been so taken in by him, and maybe he really was using me.

  After that guy’s testimony was in all the TV stations and magazines, people stopped throwing rocks at the windows of my parents’ house, and though people still come to my workplace sometimes out of curiosity, wanting to take a look at me, I don’t get any dirty looks anymore from people on the street.

  Because I’m not the woman who ran off with him, but a victim who was forced to.…

  My sister and other people have asked if I want to move, but I’m the woman who couldn’t go anywhere, even when I was running away with that guy. There’s no other place I can go.

  I’ve been reading articles about the incident in magazines. But I never can believe it’s me they’re talking about.

  I’m not trying to escape reality. But even when I try hard to remember what happened, it always feels like some other woman who did all those things. Not me.

  I think while all that was going on, I forgot what kind of woman I am. I’m a woman who can’t do a thing, but I was convinced I could.… I ignored the fact that up till then I couldn’t do a single thing in my life.…

  Not too long ago, I went up to Mitsuse Pass for the first time, to lay flowers at the spot where Yoshino Ishibashi passed away. For a long time I didn’t have the courage to go, but I thought it’s my duty to go there.…

  My sister said, “You’re a victim here, so you don’t need to force yourself to go,” but that time when we were in the squid restaurant in Yobuko, when he told what had happened, I forgave him. I was just thinking of myself, and I forgave him for violently taking Yoshino’s life, no matter why he did it.

  I think that for the rest of my life it’s my duty to apologize to Yoshino.

  The place where she died is a lonely curve in the road, a gloomy place even in the middle of the day. The flowers there were all dried up, but there was a bright orange scarf someone had wrapped around the guardrail like a landmark. I plan to go every month, on t
he day of the month when she died, to apologize. Not that that will make her forgive me or anything.…

  I’ve never met that man’s grandmother. I heard she visited my parents’ house a number of times, but I was never sure how I should receive her. All I really want to tell her is that none of this is her fault.…

  No, I’m trying not to follow the trial. At first I thought he was lying to protect me. I wasn’t threatened by him, or the victim of mind control or anything.… I tried to argue that we were really in love with each other, but people kept on saying no man could be in love with a woman he just met on an online dating site. And if he really loved me, would he try to strangle me?

  But those days when we were on the run … when we were in that shack at the lighthouse, scared, when it was snowing and we were freezing—I still miss those times. I know it’s stupid, but it hurts when I think of those days together.

  I guess I was the one who was off in my own little world, convinced I was in love.

  I mean, he’s the guy who murdered Yoshino. The one who tried to kill me.

  Isn’t it like everybody says? That he’s the villain in all this? And I just decided on my own to fall for someone like that.

  Right?

  A NOTE ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Shuichi Yoshida was born in Nagasaki, Japan, in 1968. He is the author of numerous books and has won many Japanese literary awards, including the Akutagawa Prize for Park Life, and the prestigious Osaragi Jiro Prize and the Mainichi Publishing Culture Award, both of which he received for Villain. Several of his stories have been adapted for Japanese television, and a film based on Villain is due to be released in 2010 in Japan as Akunin. Yoshida lives in Tokyo.

  A NOTE ABOUT THE TRANSLATOR

  Philip Gabriel is professor of Japanese literature at the University of Arizona. He has translated works by Kenzaburo Oe, Senji Kuroi, Akira Yoshimura, Masahiko Shimada, Natsuo Kirino, and Haruki Murakami, including Murakami’s Kafka on the Shore; Underground; Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman (co-translator); Sputnik Sweetheart; and South of the Border, West of the Sun. Gabriel is a recipient of the PEN/Book-of-the-Month Club Translation Prize (2006) and the Japan-U.S. Friendship Commission Prize for the Translation of Japanese Literature (2001).