The next day Michihisa received five thousand yen by post. Tatsuya persuaded him to make another agreement with him. Michihisa was not at all enthusiastic at first, but he finally agreed to get back at Eiko for brushing him off.
Once again Eiko sent him five thousand yen as she had said she would. When Tatsuya tried to persuade him to enter into a new bargain, Michihisa protested.
"Why don't you give up the whole idea? She's obviously crazy about you."
Tatsuya forced his brother to make it a two-thousand-yen bargain, getting another five thousand yen from Eiko herself. Michihisa took the money with a very guilty conscience.
"I really don't like this," he said. "I could never do a thing like that. It's a dirty trick to break a girl's heart like this."
Tatsuya wrote out another contract himself without telling his brother. Eiko paid up the same day.
When the money she had paid reached a total of twenty thousand yen, Tatsuya was moved by a strange feeling. It was the same feeling he used to get when a tough opponent scored a point over him during a fight. Tatsuya was not generally impressed by money, but the twenty thousand yen had a strange effect on him, making him wonder whether money was taking the place of affection in his mind.
During August, Tatsuya and Eiko did not meet or hear from each other. One Saturday in October, Eiko went down to the sea where Tatsuya was preparing to put the boat away for the winter.
"I went to your house," she said, "but they told me you were down here, so I came to see you."
A soft southerly wind was blowing. Without saying much, Tatsuya hoisted the sails and they sailed slowly around Zushi Bay. Tatsuya raised the centerboard and they sailed close to the shore. They looked at each other and laughed. The boat sailed smoothly on, its sails casting huge shadows across the sandhills. When Tatsuya tacked to come about, the boat lurched violently for a moment and pointed out to sea. Eiko went pale and covered her mouth with her hands.
"What's the matter, seasick?"
"Don't worry. I'm all right," said Eiko. "I'll feel fine in a minute. It was the sudden movement of the boat."
She smiled wanly at Tatsuya. He looked at her pale face with a puzzled air as they sailed away from the shore.
"Can't you guess? I'm pregnant. I came here to tell you."
"Whose baby is it?" said Tatsuya spitefully.
"Why yours, of course!"
"I can't believe it. Isn't it my brother's?"
"It's impossible if you count back. It's three months along already."
"Well, you made love with the trumpet player too, didn't you?"
"Don't be silly. Nothing happened with him. What shall we do about it?"
"What do you mean?"
"May I have the baby?"
Tatsuya thought for a moment without speaking. It was foolish to give birth to every child that was conceived. But as he thought, he had a sudden desire to have a child of his own. Before the others had a chance to laugh at him, he would show the baby to his friends and be proud of his kid.
The sun slowly sank, and for a time the wind dropped. Presently an easterly breeze sprang up. With the breeze, the hills around the bay appeared to give off a kind of haze and the lights of the houses were dimly reflected in the waters.
"Aren't you cold?"
Instead of replying, she merely shook her head. A white bird flew over their heads.
"I want to have a baby," Eiko said, trying to get Tatsuya to answer.
"Then go ahead and have it," he replied. "But remember that you'll be the one who suffers. And don't think this will make our relationship any more formal. It's a pretty old trick to use a baby to hook a man."
"That's all right. I'll send my baby out to someone, but I'd still like to have it," she answered quite naturally.
"Yes, it's not a bad idea, having a baby around."
"Do you really mean that?"
Through the mist they could see another boat making for the shore. Tatsuya decided to try and catch up to the other boat. He pulled in the sheet and tied the loose end to the tiller. Then holding the tiller with his feet, he began to play on his ukulele. The mist was getting thicker, but he continued to play one of his favorite tunes and sang in his low, hoarse voice. He seemed obsessed with the refrain. Eiko sat listening.
There was a sudden gap in the mist which enabled them to catch a glimpse of the other boat. Tatsuya let out the mainsheet a little further. When he stopped playing his ukulele he fancied he could hear the mist streaming past. From time to time they caught sight of the other boat's sails, which reminded Eiko of the jellyfish she had seen the night she swam with Tatsuya.
"It's wonderful," she said. "So peaceful."
"Don't put it into words," he replied.
He began to play again. They could hear a woman in the other boat, singing an Italian song. Her voice came softly across the misty waters, now high, now low. Tatsuya soon stopped playing his ukulele. He felt as if he were listening to the voice of a siren. As the two boats approached the jetty, they had to start tacking. A fire had been lit to guide them in, and this pierced the mist and seemed to cast a glow over the whole sky.
The voice of the woman coming through the red haze was quite terrifying, and Tatsuya held Eiko tight lest she be snatched away.
They had to tack repeatedly, and the other boat drew far ahead. Eiko trailed her fingers in the water and wished that they might never reach the shore.
The same evening, after fervently relating to his brother all that had happened out at sea, Tatsuya confided to him the truth without any hesitation.
"Eiko is going to have my baby," he said.
"Really? A good thing I gave her back to you. That would have been a problem for me. Aren't you going to do anything about it?" Michihisa asked with surprise.
"You got no heart," replied Tatsuya. "I'm going to be a father and a very good father."
"I don't want to be an uncle yet. I hope it won't take after its old man."
Eiko was disturbed when it was confirmed that she was to give birth to a baby. A few days later she went to see Tatsuya to make sure he had meant what he said.
"I'm not telling you definitely to have the child. It's entirely up to you. All I said was that it wouldn't be a bad thing to have a baby of our own."
Eiko's irritation at this unsatisfactory reply seemed to please him. His desire for a baby was really no more than a passing whim, a moment of temptation like that which one feels when passing a show window with attractive ties displayed. He did not have enough fatherly instinct to give his whole self to Eiko and make a success of the affair. But he got a kind of pleasure from watching Eiko's reactions, like inspecting ties he had no intention of buying in order irritate the salesgirl. The brutal side of his nature had reasserted itself.
As a result, he did not know Eiko's final decision for about a month. Then one morning he saw a newspaper picture of a champion boxer holding a baby in his arms. This finally decided him. The sight of the boxer smiling foolishly, with his gown open at the front, annoyed him. In the ring he would have been a completely different man. Tatsuya made up his mind that Eiko should have an abortion. The child was not to live because of his father's vanity as a sportsman.
When Tatsuya told Eiko of the decision which she had been expecting, she nodded sadly. As she was already four months pregnant, a regular abortion became difficult, and because of her build she had to have a Caesarean operation.
Four days after the operation, peritonitis set in and Eiko died.
Tatsuya refused to believe the news when Sachiko, her friend, telephoned him.
"Stop joking," he laughed.
"But it's a true, I tell you. The funeral's the day after tomorrow."
Sachiko's voice was unusually cold and Tatsuya was suddenly shocked. He felt that he was irrevocably tied to Eiko for the rest of his life. It was strange, but the notion took root in his mind. He replaced the receiver and immediately the phone rang again. The operator said something, but he banged the receiver down.
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"She's made a mess of things," he muttered in a husky voice. But when he realized he was blaming himself too, he shook his head quickly.
On the day of the funeral Tatsuya arrived at Eiko's house towards the end of the ceremonial chanting. He gave his name at the front and went in quickly, ignoring the others. Behind him he heard someone giving his name to the family inside. He walked straight into the room where the closed coffin lay. Eiko's friends, who were sitting with the family, looked at him reproachfully, and he returned their hostile stares.
A photograph of Eiko stood on the altar which was almost covered with flowers. Her smile seemed to challenge him. He stood in front of it without making the customary bow. One of her relatives showed him a small casket of incense placed beside him for him to offer to her spirit. He picked up the incense and gazed at the photograph. For the first time he realized what a challenge there was in her smile. Her death was her supreme challenge. He had lost his favorite toy, the toy he could never break no matter how much he battered it.
He dropped the incense, and almost without realizing what he was doing, he picked up the bronze container and flung it with all his might at the photograph.
"God damn you!" he shouted.
The frame was shattered and several baskets of flowers fell off the altar. Tatsuya glared angrily around him.
"None of you understand!" he shouted.
Sachiko saw tears in Tatsuya's eyes for the first time as he strode out of the room, his teeth savagely clenched together out of hate for himself.
He went straight to the college gymnasium. It was still early and the place was almost empty. He changed quickly and went straight into the ring to do some shadowboxing. Then he went over to the punching bag.
Eiko's words came back to him: "Why can't you love me in a more straightforward manner?"
For a moment he seemed to see her smiling at him from behind the bag. He struck out as if from a dream.
THE PUNISHMENT ROOM
THE PUNISHMENT ROOM
(Shokei no Heya)
—They talk about resistance, responsibilities, and morality. Why should I care? What others think never bothers me! Doing only what I want—that's all I can do!—
Katsumi went into the New Moon. There he saw no sign of Takeshima and the others, but a group of students who had heard what he had come in for stood up and surrounded him at the entrance. Among them was Tezuka, with whom he had gotten into a fight a couple of months before and whose face he had punched so hard that it had a flattened nose for good.
Katsumi recognized most of the students there—he had met them all before at one place or another. He looked at them and grinned.
"Take it easy, boys. I'm on a slightly different job today. I wouldn't have come here alone otherwise. If they aren't here they must be at the Carib."
He turned round and swiftly went down the stairs. They watched him in surprise as he made his way down.
"That son of a bitch!"
Katsumi, hearing the remark, stopped at the foot of the short staircase. He took a cigarette case out of his pocket and slowly pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Then he looked up at the group and went out grinning.
The weather, which had been threatening since the previous night, at last broke and the rain began to fall in a misty drizzle.
He turned into a back street and was soon at the Carib, where a waitress was trying to hail a cab for a customer.
"Takeshima and the rest are in the back room," she said. "You'd better go in this way. You'll never get through the crowd if you go through the front."
He went up the narrow alley to the back door. Empty bottles and rusty cans were piled high on both sides, so that only one person at a time could get by. The alley was dark and wet. He threw his cigarette down. It sizzled as he stamped it out. Then he heard laughter.
He jerked open the door and stepped in. Everyone turned to look at him. He was met with a strange silence. There were six students there in all.
Two who had not been at Shinagawa stood up surprised and let him pass. They continued to stand, looking at Takeshima as if waiting for his okay to start something. Takeshima put them at ease with a nod.
"Well, look who's here," he said.
"Yeah. You did all right didn't you? If you got about thirty thousand yen out of it, then thirty per cent of that is roughly nine thousand. I want the money you promised me."
"Sure, sure. Hey, have a drink."
Katsumi pushed a glass forward.
"Whiskey?" asked Takeshima.
"What's the label?"
"Don't be so fussy. It's VO. Or do you want gin?"
"VO'll do."
Someone sitting behind Katsumi took a bottle and filled his glass more than half full. His own glass was full of gin.
Every now and then there was the clatter of waiters and waitresses going up and down the staircase outside. The room he was in was entirely bare of furniture except for some cheap chairs and a table. In one corner there were a couple of unopened cases of whiskey. Evidentally the waitresses also used the room for their rest breaks.
One who was leaning against the wall kept kicking aimlessly at the cases. The brand-new patternless wallpaper shone in the bright light of a 100-watt lamp. A small unlit naked bulb was hanging near the door.
When Katsumi put his lips to the glass, the conversation came to a halt again. There was a peculiar silence in the room.
"What do those marks stand for?" asked one of the group, pointing to red and blue ticks on the calendar on the wall.
"Must be the girls' days off."
"Nah! It's when they have their periods. Take a look at the calendar before you date one!"
Only a few of them laughed at the joke. Then came the sound of a guitar and loud drunken laughter upstairs.
"How d'ya like bringing a beggar in this place? You'd think this was some kind of joint."
"That music's not coming from upstairs. It's outside."
One of them looked out through the door.
"Oh, no. It's upstairs."
"Hey, you guys must have fun, sitting around here without any women!" mocked Katsumi.
"We had fun enough earlier."
"Fun, hell! I'd expected some trouble, but it really went off smooth. But Ryoji, he's yellow. I'm not even sorry for him—he just makes me angry. You say 'jump' and he wants to know how high. Just no guts!"
"He had guts, but I calmed him down with this."
Takeshima took out an unusually large cigarette case from his pocket and showed it to Katsumi. Inside was a lady's small revolver with an ivory handle.
"If I hadn't had this, there'd have been a fight," he added.
Katsumi started, then stared at the pistol's owner.
"Steady, Katsu! It's only an ornament. I seldom use it. But it cooled down Ryoji."
Takeshima narrowed his eyes and, holding the revolver up, pretended to shoot at Katsumi. His face took on a peculiar look. A forced smile made his cheeks stiffen unnaturally. Then he loosened his grip and turned the gun round on the palm of his open hand.
"A nice toy, isn't it?" he said, wiping it on his sleeve.
"Yeah, cute."
Katsumi put out his hand to take it.
"Oh, you don't no! It's loaded," Takeshima said. "I can't trust you. I've got to be careful or something might happen!"
"It's all right. I don't know how to use it anyhow."
"You'd better not learn to, either—for you own good!"
Takeshima put the case back into his pocket and smiled.
Katsumi was angry but managed to control himself.
"If it weren't for this, Ryoji would've fought it out." Takeshima added.
Katsumi could imagine how Ryoji must have gritted his teeth when he counted out the notes and handed them over. Now he understood exactly why Ryoji had given up the money without a struggle. Katsumi had been excitedly watching the scene from the trees, and it had seemed that Ryoji could have got away in time or at least fought it out.
&
nbsp; "I called Ryo yellow, but these rats are worse," he thought.
"You don't think it was a filthy trick to use a thing like that?" he asked.
"Filthy? A heist is a heist! Anyway, you should talk. You're the one who sold him out!"
"Me?" Katsumi began to speak, but got no further.
He wondered if he'd not betrayed Ryoji after all. It had been his intention to make some money out of it and then pay Ryoji back. He was the only one who knew about it. Yes, he had sold Ryoji out to them!
He was more furious that he had fallen into a trap than that his calculations had failed. He emptied his glass at a gulp and stared at Takeshima and his cohorts.
Earlier that evening Ryoji and his brother, Katsumi's best friends, had organized a dance party at a hotel in Shinagawa. The tickets sold extremely well because of two popular bands they had hired.
The hall, which was not especially large, was so full that couples also danced in the garden in the open air. A number of bonfires lit up the lawn. Those who got cold gathered around the fires to warm themselves. One conspicuous person was a stout foreign wrestler, a guest at the hotel, who danced with every girl he came across. One or two groups stood by watching the dancing, occasionally moving over to the bar for a drink. Katsumi at once identified them as off-duty plain clothesmen, hired to keep a watch on the place for the evening.
As soon as he saw Ryoji, he grabbed hold of him.
"The hall is limited to two hundred. How many tickets have you sold?" he asked.
"A thousand," Ryoji replied.
"That's good business! You've really packed them in. Everywhere's jam packed. Bet we've taken in a lot."
"Sure! There'll be more than eighty thousand yen left even after we've paid the bands."
Of all the schemes for making money, dances were the most decent from almost every point of view. Of course, not all dance parties were profitable, and a day had to be chosen when no other party was on. Even when it coincided with another, it was always a success provided it was held at a good place and there was a popular band. The university's T. R. Club (T.R. was a combination of Ryoji's and his brother's initials) had learned how to attract customers and to do good business, partly by starting the dance well after dark and creating the right atmosphere.
Season of Violence Page 5