Season of Violence

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Season of Violence Page 7

by Shintaro Ishihara


  "Ahh, even if we did, he couldn't see the results if he's blinded."

  Katsumi himself tried to imagine what he must look like, but could not. "Lousy vicious bastards," Katsumi thought. The way they use a man's body for a plaything. If I died they couldn't care less! They don't know what they're doing, or why. They're kids. No, they're lunatics! I'm not afraid of them . . . but this way they use my body for their toy . . . it's, it's horrible. But horrible or not, I won't give them the satisfaction of seeing me whimper.

  Katsumi felt himself impatiently waiting for something, but what it was exactly he couldn't tell.

  "I'm not afraid of these bastards," he kept saying to himself.

  Blood from the wound on his forehead trickled down his cheek, giving a pleasant tickling sensation as it ran over the hot swollen skin.

  "Damn, Tezuka's taking his time in coming! And where's Kawada?"

  "Tez must be dead drunk somewhere. He'll make up for it later on!"

  "Sure, don't worry—there's a lot more left of this night!"

  They went on drinking. Now they lost interest in beating Katsumi themselves. They could wait for the others to come and finish the job. That would be fun—they would come and finish up on Katsumi once and for all.

  They emptied glass after glass, as Katsumi sat there in silence. Now and then they gloated over their bloody captive. But it was strange. He didn't feel like trying to escape. Now he too was waiting—not just for a chance to test himself, but seemingly for something else he knew was coming.

  Someone knocked outside the door that led to the bar.

  "Yeah?"

  "Let me in, please. I have to get some whiskey from in there."

  "It's a waitress," said one and gave a sign to let her in, while another quickly sat on top of Katsumi to hide him from view.

  The girl came in and looked round curiously.

  "Make it snappy! If you hang around here, you might get in trouble."

  "What've you boys been up to in here for so long, any-how?" she replied.

  "Something very interesting. Want us to try it on you too?"

  "No thank you," said the waitress, bending down to pick up some bottles in the corner. Takeshima kicked at the hem of her dress, flipping skirt and petticoats half way up her back.

  "How many bottles you want? I'll stick an extra one up there for you!"

  As the girl hurriedly went out, the boy who was sitting on Katsumi pretended to be talking to him. At the same time he moved Katsumi's head this way and that way, laughing to give the impression of friendly teasing while still managing to poke his captive in the face.

  It wasn't long before they heard footsteps and drunken female laughter at the door. There was a short conversation with a male companion and then the door opened. One of their group called Ishikawa came in pushing a tottering girl in front of him.

  "No, I don't want to—I've never done it before," she said to him still laughing.

  Katsumi thought the voice was familiar. He turned his face in its direction and tried to open his eyes.

  "Hey, Ishi! You couldn't have showed up at a better time. We've something to show you."

  "Huh? What are you talking about?"

  "Take a look at this."

  So saying, Takeshima pushed aside the one who had been blocking the view and pointed at Katsumi.

  "It's Katsumi!" cried the girl. "What're you doing here . . . what's going on?"

  Katsumi lifted his face. Now he knew who it was. He felt an odd sense of relief, but it quickly gave way to a realization that the worst possible thing had happened. The girl was Akiko.

  "What's with this broad?" asked Takeshima.

  "You don't know her. She's my cousin. She won't get in your way. Say Akiko, how come you know this guy?"

  "What do you care?"

  "Yeah, Ishi, what do you care? Anyway, more important is that Tezuka and Yamayoshi will be here to finish him off soon, so if you've got anything to settle with this bum, settle it now while he can stand it," Takeshima said.

  "No thanks. It's no fun to slap around a guy who's tied up. Anyhow, I've got nothing against him personally. I got to shove off now. This scene's no good for a woman. Come on, Akiko!"

  "I'm not going."

  "Huh! C'mon, you're drunk!"

  "What's it matter if I am drunk? I've got some debts to settle up with Mr. Katsumi."

  "Have you now? Well, pay him off, do whatever you please," laughed Takeshima.

  Ishikawa started to pull her toward the door.

  "Leave me alone," she said to Ishikawa, breaking away.

  She walked up to Katsumi, who was now sitting with his face up.

  "Well, Mr. Katsumi Shimada. This is the last place I expected to have the honor of seeing you—and what a sight you are," she mocked.

  "Yeah, he's a looker!" someone chuckled.

  Katsumi turned his head stiffly. Through the film of blood he could vaguely see her features.

  She slapped him across the face with her right palm. Katsumi did not duck or even blink.

  "What's the matter with him . . . that funny expression?" she said looking around.

  "His little eyes are all full of gin—we gave up our drinks for him," one of them explained.

  Akiko turned to the speaker and then back, looking closely into Katsumi's eyes.

  "Can't you really see?" she asked.

  "That's my good fortune, now, isn't it?" Katsumi replied.

  Akiko had been about to say something but now only stared coldly at him.

  "Go on! Let him have another one!" Takeshima shouted excitedly.

  "So it was you I was waiting for all night," Katsumi muttered to himself.

  Yes, the thing he had been waiting for was this woman. The irony of it suddenly forced Katsumi to laugh out loud. Imagine meeting Akiko—especially here like this. He wondered how he must look to her now. Here was the woman he had taken physical advantage of, played with for a while, then dropped cold. Here she was standing before him. Takeshima had talked of settling accounts. Well, Akiko would seem to be more indebted to him than anyone else and that was funny!

  "What are you laughing at? You can see, can't you?"

  "No, I can't see, but it doesn't make any difference. Pay me back what you owe me! You have a considerable debt to me, you know."

  "Debt? What are you talking about?" Akiko's voice was shrill and excited, and her clenched hands were trembling.

  "Keep quiet and get on with it," someone said, handing her a glass of whiskey. She promptly threw it in Katsumi's face.

  "Is that all you owe him? Pay some more! Your debt must be bigger than that."

  "What is all this pay-your-debts nonsense, Akiko?" asked Ishikawa.

  Akiko grabbed her cousin. "You remember that time, that night—well, it was him," she shouted on the verge of tears.

  "So that's it," answered Ishikawa, staring blankly at Kasumi.

  "So that's what?" asked Takeshima, puzzled.

  "Nothing. It's Akiko's private affair," he replied turning back to Katsumi. "So you're the big man—well, it'll be hard to let things stand as they are now."

  "I'm not saying I'm a big man, but I am the guy from the night you're talking about," said Katsumi, overcome with an unnerving sensation. And to himself he said, "And what a hell of a way to end up, meeting her here like this!"

  Katsumi first met Akiko on the last day of the spring baseball series. That night, win or lose, students had thronged streets of Tokyo to celebrate the occasion. Along the streets most of the shops had closed much earlier than usual, anticipating damage by overzealous students from the winning school. For many students, this was the only day in the year they wore their drab school uniforms. Others, dressed up for the occasion, showed their allegiances by small university emblems on their breast pockets. A long-standing and prudent tradition demanded that students of the respective schools break up after the game and go to widely separated areas of Tokyo for their celebrating. As a result, however, there were occasional rand
om quarrels with whoever had the misfortune to pick that night to go out on the town—office workers, tourists and, as the hour grew late, there would even be trouble with fellow students.

  Ryoji did not appear at the hour fixed for the group to meet, so Katsumi, Takeda, and Aikawa had a few drinks and then began to wander through the streets looking for excitement.

  "Katsu! Didn't you get a woman tonight?" one of a group from the rugby team yelled as they passed, arm in arm with their dates.

  "What are you talkin' about—it's early and I don't want to get a dud!" he yelled over his shoulder.

  "Yeah, but let's hurry anyhow—a woman's a woman," said Aikawa impatiently.

  Turning a corner, the three saw two girls coming out of a shop. They ventured a greeting:

  "Top of the evening, ladies!"

  None of them expected a reply.

  "Hello . . . and congratulations on your win."

  The three boys stared dumbly for a moment.

  "What's the matter? Con-gra-chu-lay-shuns, I said."

  "Well, a . . . well thanks. And how about a drink to help us celebrate?"

  Accepting Katsumi's invitation, the two girls followed along in a spirited mood.

  "Are you just going to have a drink and then abandon us?" asked Aikawa feigning great disappointment.

  "Of course," the better-looking one said. "Why we're afraid of boys, don't you know?"

  "Ah, don't talk that. Say, I'm the original guy who wouldn't hurt a fly, right Sonnyboy?"

  "Well, I don't know," Aikawa returned.

  "Sonnyboy!—oh that's cute. Do they really call you Sonnyboy?"

  "Not if I can stop them."

  They looked into a beer hall. It was packed with singing and shouting students. One student they had never seen before came up and started slapping them on the backs like an old friend.

  "Hey, a great game, wasn't it?"

  "Yeah, yeah, now go back and tend to the chickens. These kids who get such a thrill singing the 'old school song' and nursing a few beers make me sick. C'mon."

  "These big places are too noisy anyway."

  They had drinks at a number of places until they found a quiet Japanese-style restaurant. They went in to one of the small rooms where just the five of them could sit on the matted floor around a low table. They told each other their names. Katsumi thought he had seen the girl with the slender figure and short hair before, but he was not sure.

  "I think I've seen you around Akiko, haven't I?" he asked.

  "Have you? I don't place you."

  "Don't take him seriously. Come on Shimada, don't move in so fast."

  "Really—I just don't remember where, that's all."

  "Who'd believe you! You'd say anything to get ahead of us."

  The girls looked at each other and laughed. Katsumi was intent on comparing them. Next to Akiko's bold eyes and unusual face, the other girl, Kyoko, was like a baby. He had to smile at her taking out a cigarette and getting Takeda to light it—a smoking baby!

  Akiko interrupted Aikawa, who had started to go after more beer. "Are you ordering more beer? Can't we have sake?"

  "Saké? Sure, as much as you please," he replied, winking at Katsumi behind the girls' backs.

  "Where did you girls learn to drink hard stuff like that anyway?" he asked a few moments later as he sat back down with a bottle and some small sake cups.

  "Oh, around," was the reply. "You don't think it's just for gentlemen, do you? Here let me pour you another."

  By now, Aikawa was flushed—more than the girls—and listening to them talk cooled down his enthusiasm for the evening.

  Takeda had left the room to go to the men's room, but few seconds later Katsumi noticed him beckoning from the hall. Katsumi excused himself.

  "What do you want?" he said.

  "I've had a great idea. We don't want to let 'em get away, do we? They'll go on just drinking like this for a while, so let's go out and get some pills—it'll be easy."

  "Pills? What kind of pills?"

  "Sleeping pills, what do you think?"

  "They'll know!"

  "They'll never guess. We'll put some in their beer. They're half-way gone already."

  "The way they're drinking, we won't even need pills."

  "They'll throw up if you make them drink too much. Pills are better."

  "Did you tell Aikawa?"

  "Not yet. Later is soon enough."

  "Okay, but how can we get hold of sleeping pills?"

  "That's it. We can't both go. You know what happened to me last year—besides Tagawa and his gang saw me come in here."

  Takeda was afraid of Tagawa and his hefty rubgy friends. He had gotten pushed around for getting smart with them not too long before.

  "Fair enough, I suppose," Katsumi said sullenly. "Okay, and I'll check if Ryoji's drinking at the Muse."

  "Don't waste a lot of time! I'll tell 'em you ran into a buddy."

  Katsumi rushed out. He ran this way and that, looking for a pharmacy that was still open. He was out of breath when he finally found one.

  "I want some strong sleeping pills."

  The druggist looked at him dubiously but produced a box.

  "Do they taste bad?"

  "They do have a slight taste, but not very much."

  "Guess I'd better take 'em with beer?"

  "Not a bad idea," said the druggist smiling.

  Katsumi put the sleeping pills in his pocket and went out.

  On his way back he looked in at the Muse. Ryoji was drinking at the bar with a classmate named Yoshimura.

  "So that's what's happened to Ryo! That egghead has taken away all his guts!" Katsumi was full of disgust for Yoshimura and all he stood for.

  "That phony intellectual—all he's got his head for is talking a lot of brainy garbage. Strip him down and what have you got? Not a damn thing—not a man. Talk, talk, and he has the nerve to tell me what I should do. Well, I got to the university too, and I'll be damned if I'll be a snickering holier-than-thou bastard like him!"

  Katsumi smiled and waved a greeting at Ryoji and walked across to the bar, forced his way into the crowd at the bar and sat down.

  "So you finally showed up."

  "I had some things to take care of—couldn't get away till now," Ryoji said.

  "Have you been out scouting yet?"

  "No, not yet—anything interesting happening?"

  "Yes sir!" Katsumi took out the box of pills and rattled them in Ryoji's ear. "Something is happening."

  "What's in there, Katsumi?"

  Katsumi lowered his voice and explained.

  "What a terrific scheme!" Yoshimura shouted. "It's the perfect crime!"

  "Not so loud! If you let anyone else know, you're in for it."

  "But it's a wonderful scheme—just what you'd expect from old Takeda!" continued Yoshimura.

  "Yeah, he's a genius when it comes to anything shady."

  "Well, as his partner in crime, you should know."

  That was Takeda all right. And he wasn't ashamed to tell everyone that his father had donated about five million yen to the university to get his son admitted. Takeda even named the directors who accepted the money. The boy probably could not even read through the alphabet correctly—that is, if he had ever tried—and he had stayed back in the same class twice after failing his examinations. The only son of a mine owner who had greatly overindulged his son, Takeda was a child who had an adult's body. He had little wisdom and less common sense, but he was clever—or cunning—at anything concerning gambling and women. But when things took a turn for the worse, he would turn stingy with a seriousness that had you laughing before you could hate him. They said that he'd lose all of his father's fortune, or else double it, if he ever got a chance.

  "Hand me that spoon, Rika-chan," Katsumi said to a girl at the bar.

  He began to crush the pills on the top of the bar with the back of the spoon.

  "Gotta do it this way! What else can we do—tell 'em it's a contraceptive or so
mething and expect to have them gulp it down?"

  "You'll be in for it if you're caught." Yoshimura said, holding out his wrists for imaginary handcuffs.

  "If you keep your month shut, it'll be all right," Katsumi said. "Anyway it's like they've already half-way agreed to get laid."

  "Then why the pills?"

  "To eliminate all the resistance and get right down to business. Because we're only doing what they want deep down. After we warm them up a while, we'll wake 'em up and let them enjoy it. Anyway, girls made up like that only want one thing—a man. Otherwise why did they come drinking with us in the first place?"

  Katsumi could not imagine drinking with a girl and then separating without a bedroom scene.

  "I'll do what they want all right," he continued. "I just want to skip all the hypocrisy and get on with it. After all, life's too short."

  "Listen to the sermon, will you! And it was probably all Takeda's idea in the first place—he's just talked you into something you don't want," Yoshimura said mockingly.

  "What? You know how I am when I get drunk, don't you? Women, fights—fights and women! Isn't that right Rika-chan?"

  The girl just laughed and turned away.

  "I know just what I want. It's not a question of right or wrong, but how to bring it off right. It's better to be natural than repress yourself and be frustrated."

  Katsumi ordered a double whiskey.

  "Are you all right mixing whiskey with the rest of the stuff you've had? How about Takeda and your girl friends?" asked Ryoji.

  "They're okay. When I'm on the job, nothing makes any difference. And while I'm at it, I'll tell your friend Yoshimura here a thing or two about life. Anyhow Takeda can't do anything without me."

  Katsumi emptied his glass and turned around to face Yoshimura.

  "Don't you believe that doing should come before thinking? But it takes guts to act, and I think you ought to have more guts—the guts to do something! Yeah—only thinking makes you soft. Do something and you'd look a whole lot healthier—put some color in your face."

  He patted himself on the cheek.

  "Aren't you just about to suffocate, Yoshi-boy? Or are you already too soft to realize it? When I start to 'think,' I just choke up. I have to hit myself to keep from going crazy. You've got to do something! It's action you want, not words."

 

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