Chapter 3 (1/2)

The Mermaid of Agohama

When I opened the door, a foul smell wafted over. A smell like rotten vegetables. I took off my s.h.i.+rt and socks to throw them in the was.h.i.+ng machine, and in the living room, I saw my mom asleep using folded cus.h.i.+ons as a pillow. On the table were strewn peanut sh.e.l.ls, and liquor spilling out from a toppled teacup covered the table and dripped from the edge. Small moths flew around the lights in the room, and the TV was left on a news channel.

I got a cloth and wiped off the table, and repeatedly whapped the stains on the carpet with paper towels. As I went back and forth between the kitchen and living room, my mom showed no sign of waking. No matter how much I wiped, the table just wouldn’t get any less sticky, so I eventually gave up on it.

Opening the refrigerator, I found white cabbage starting to turn black, radishes which were too late to save, eggs over a week past expiration date, and an open bag of bean sprouts. As I thawed some frozen-solid pork in a frying pan and chopped some vegetables, my finally-awake mother spoke from the living room, “Water, please,” in a drunk-sounding voice.

I filled a cup with cold water and took it to her. She sat up, drank it in one gulp, said “Sorry,” and fell back on the floor.

After dinner, while I was doing was.h.i.+ng, mom came into the kitchen. She stood beside me, not to help me out or anything, but just staring sleepily at my face. And, over thirty seconds later, she finally noticed the change in her son.

“Oh, your face…”

“Yeah,” I said. “When I woke up this morning, it was gone.”

She came closer and examined my face in detail. Probably suspected it was just cosmetics or something.

After a thorough inspection, she happily slapped my back.

“Well, isn’t that great? All that treatment took effect. Going to all those hospitals was worth it after all.”

Don’t be stupid, I thought to myself. It’s not like a pimple or freckles. All the doctors we went to had a dissatisfied frown, and insinuated that I’d just have to find some way to live with it. They told us that even if I had healthy skin transplanted, the birthmark was highly likely to appear again in the same spot. For such a mark to vanish overnight - you’re calling it “all that treatment taking effect”?

“Don’t you think it’s weird?”, I asked. “The last time I even went to a dermatologist was over two years ago.”

“Yes, yes. It’s surely strange. Why, if it were the effects of treatment, I could understand if it healed over time. But going away overnight, now, that isn’t normal. You may just have to call it a miracle, in fact.”

Mom took a swig from her teacup, and threw three peanuts into her mouth.

“But, Yosuke. You ought to forget about your birthmark now. When it comes to such extraordinary luck, it’s best to leave it be. At times like this, you just say ”it’s luck, no big deal.”“

I felt there was truth to that. But it only applied if you weren’t certain about where the good luck came from. My luck had a clear source.

”You should let your happiness show. Don’t go fearing that you’re celebrating prematurely and will be disappointed later. Celebrating knowing the risk of disappointment is the smart thing to do.”

I didn’t respond, and instead pointed to the teacup in her hand. “I thought you were quitting drinking as of July?”

“It’s water,” she transparently lied. “Just water.”

I took away the cup and gulped down its contents. My throat heated up, and the smell of potatoes gone bad filled my stomach. I vaguely wanted to puke. Honestly, what about this was tasty?

“What a delinquent son,” chastised my mother, filling the reclaimed cup with liquor again.

“It’s just water,” I insisted.

I lied on my side and closed my eyes, but glimpses of the past few hours under my eyelids made it seem impossible to sleep. I went to the living room, took one of the cigarette packs from the second dresser drawer, and returned to my room. Turning the lights off, I lit one up. Not wanting the smoke to fill the room, I opened up the screen door, stuck my head out, and was met with a damp soil smell.

The image of Hajikano’s face was burned into my sight. There was a huge bruise on her face. A bluish-black mark, the spitting image of the birthmark I’d had before.

I decided not to think about how it had gotten there. Maybe it happened naturally, maybe it didn’t. I wouldn’t say I couldn’t make any guesses, necessarily… but just thinking about it wouldn’t get me a definite answer. What was worth thinking about was what that mark, whatever the reason for its appearance, had wrought on her.

Hajikano had been attempting suicide in that park. That I could tell. Was it indeed that birthmark which led her to such measures? Was she so distraught about her appearance, she decided to hang herself?

Even if we’re being modest, Hajikano was truly one of the most beautiful girls in this town. Everyone aspired to her, everyone was jealous of her, everyone envied her. She must have been at least somewhat aware of all that herself. She wasn’t someone who cared nothing for the subtle feelings of others. She couldn’t havenot known that the beauty she possessed warped the meaning of the word “beauty” with how much it surpa.s.sed it.

How in the world would she feel having that beauty tainted? I couldn’t even imagine. If the birthmark I had was a stain on a mat, hers was a stain on a pure white dress. Though the same color and size, they didn’t have the same significance. The mental impact of the latter was incomparable to the former. It wasn’t unreasonable to think Hajikano became highly pessimistic for her future.

On the other hand, I felt something amiss with this conclusion. Would Hajikano consider suicide over such an event? Beauty was only but one of her charms. Ever since I first came to know her, I knew she possessed deep insight, especially for a grade-schooler. Her words were full of wisdom, she was very studious, and she was even above-average athletically. She read lots of books, and listened to music older than even her parents knew. At minimum, she had twenty times the sense I did, surely.

Would someone like her turn to suicide just because her beauty was tarnished?

I’ll go see Hajikano after school tomorrow, I thought. In everything I pondered about, I was lacking information. Once we met and talked, everything could be made clear, and we could decide what direction to take next.

I felt great unease, but the second I decided I’d meet Hajikano, part of me was excited. Regardless of how it was happening, I would get to be part of her life again. The day we graduated elementary school, I thought I would quickly forget Hajikano once we’d gone our separate ways. Yet taking off the lid now, I found those feelings had only grown stronger over the three years.

In a sense, I had been waiting for this day to come for a long time.

I put out my cigarette and went to the living room to put it in an ashtray. Then I kneeled down in front of the dresser and checked my face.

People who have nothing have one strong point: they have nothing to lose. Once you have just one thing precious to you, you’re always tormented by the fear of losing it.

As proof of that fact, I was afraid. Of the birthmark coming back to my face, and of a return to my drab life.

*

The next morning, I came to a sudden stop outside of the Cla.s.s 1-3 cla.s.sroom.

I had always hated the moment of opening the cla.s.sroom door. That trend had only become more obvious as I aged.

It was possible for everything to change in just one night. Any such changes would become clear the instant I opened the door. What had been a peaceful mood yesterday could be painful today, those who yesterday seemed like the center of the cla.s.s could become outcasts, people who had been kind acquaintances yesterday could lay traps today… Basically, anything from yesterday wouldn’t necessarily be the same today. So when I stood in front of the door every morning, I felt like I was turning over a rock on the seash.o.r.e. There could be a sh.e.l.l that sparkled like a gem stuck to it, or a repulsive sea louse could come crawling out.

Taking a quiet deep breath, I opened the door. I didn’t see Chigusa anywhere, but Nagahora noticed me and beckoned. I nodded, put my bag down by my desk, and went over to him.

Nagahora was in a group of, including him, three boys and two girls, chatting and laughing. It seemed he was trying to get me to join the circle. I knew he was doing it out of good will, and it really was the sort of thing someone like me would need right now, but somewhere in my heart, I was fed up with it. I didn’t like talking with this many people at once.

“f.u.kamachi, wasn’t it?”, said one of the girls, tall and with a clean-cut face. “Are your legs all right? Sounds like you were hospitalized for quite a while.”

“It’s nothing now,” I answered. “I’d pretty much recovered by the end of June. I was just hiding out ‘til exams were over.”

The five of them laughed all together, and Nagahora poked my chest. “Not bad, man!”

“We were talking about a test of courage,” someone said. It was a boy with short hair and darkish skin, who definitely gave the impression of a baseball player. “Have you ever heard of the abandoned hotel at the foot of the mountain?”

“Oh, the Red-Room Ruins, right?”

The instant I spoke, the group of five stopped laughing. Did I say something awkward? Nervousness filled me.

“Red room?”, Nagahora asked.

“Yeah. Deep in the hotel, there’s a red room.”

“First I’ve heard of it…” In constrast to the other girl, the girl who spoke had a small and plain face, and her eyes sparkled behind gla.s.ses. “What’s that about?”

“It’s not that interesting. It’s a room with a corner spraypainted red, that’s all. It might surprise you if you see it in the dark, but it’s just what it sounds like, a red room.”

“You sure know about it,” remarked the short-haired boy. “Have you gone in there?”

I hesitated briefly, but I decided to answer honestly. “Yeah. A friend took me in middle school.”

“I want to know more,” begged the girl with gla.s.ses.

“There was a chair in the center of the room, and a mannequin sitting in it.” I gradually found myself speaking more smoothly. As if thanks to the loss of my birthmark, I could suddenly carry a natural conversation. “It seems like someone periodically comes to dress her up, so from day to day, she might be in the First High uniform, or in a swimsuit.”

The short-haired boy clapped his hands together. “That sounds cool! Feel like going all of a sudden.”

“That’s not all,” I proceeded upon seeing the group’s reaction. “In the room next to it, there’s an old, but pretty clean bed. And around it, there’s a bunch of tossed-out stuff that’s barely even been used.”

At this, the three boys cheered, and the girl with gla.s.ses knit her brows, but didn’t seem entirely displeased.

The tall girl seemed to be the only one who didn’t understand. “What was thrown away?”, she innocently asked.

“Well, it’s not crackers or bingo cards…” The other boy who hadn’t opened his mouth thus far, pale and with average looks, spoke quietly. “And it’s not bags of candy.”

“I don’t understand. Are you making fun of me?” The tall girl glared at him.

“Tonight,” said Nagahora. “I can’t wait any longer than that. We’ll go see it tonight. You lead us, f.u.kamachi.”

“Tonight?”, I repeated. “Oh, sorry, but after school today…”

“Hey, did f.u.kamachi just get called?” The girl with gla.s.ses put her hand to her ear.

We stopped talking at once. Indeed, my name was being repeated on the school intercom.

“That’s Kasai’s voice,” said the pale boy.

“Right at the good part,” the gla.s.ses girl pouted. “See you, f.u.kamachi.”

As I left, Nagahora asked from behind me. “You don’t think you can come to a test of courage tonight?”

“Unfortunately,” I affirmed. “Besides, it’s more tense without someone who’s seen it all before.”

After leaving the cla.s.sroom, I put a relieved hand to my chest.

Today’s rock seemed to be hiding a sh.e.l.l rather than a sea louse.

*

“Do you know why I called you in?”

Throughout my life, I must have heard at least thirty questions along those lines. Why do you think I called you in? You know what I’m going to say, right? Can you tell me what you did wrong? I wonder where all school staff learned those roundabout turns of phrase. Did they have training, or did they just naturally pick them up scolding such a large number of students?

In stark contrast to yesterday, Kasai’s att.i.tude was cool and indifferent. He had an elbow on his desk and his chin in his hand, clicking a pen with the nervousness of a nicotine addict who hadn’t had a smoke all day.

“I don’t know,” I answered. I didn’t know why exactly, but Kasai seemed irritated with me. Better to not say much and watch things unfold here.

“I see.” He shook his head as if disappointed, spinning his chair to face me. “But try thinking about it some more. I wouldn’t have called you in here for no reason, right? I don’t have the time for that kind of thing.”

“Then you should just tell me, please. I said I don’t know, and I won’t suddenly know it either. I don’t personally remember doing anything worth blame to anyone.”

There were plenty of people going in and out of the faculty room in the morning, and a few people snuck looks at me as I confronted Kasai with his restless eyes. It was difficult to call it a pleasant situation. I wanted to settle this before any cla.s.smates saw it.

“Suppose it wouldn’t be too strange.” Kasai took a sip from his cup of coffee. “Alright, I’ll make it quick. Do you know who sits in the seat one up and right of yours?”

He said he’d make it quick, yet it was a leading question. But it wasn’t as if I couldn’t answer. I recalled the layout of the cla.s.sroom yesterday. Nagahora was in front of me, Chigusa was to my right, and up and to the right was an empty seat.

“I don’t know. Because whoever it was seemed to be absent yesterday.”

“Yes,” Kasai nodded. “And again today, it seems. We got a call from her parents earlier.”

I couldn’t read where this was going. What relation was he saying there was between me, who attended for the first time yesterday, and a student p.r.o.ne to absences?

“And?”, I pressed.

“So you don’t even know that…” Kasai looked stunned. He scratched the back of his neck and sighed.

“For a while now, she’s had insistent requests. ”Change me to another cla.s.s, it doesn’t matter which.” “I can’t say why, but just let me leave this cla.s.s.” Of course, we can’t listen to selfish requests from every student. If we made one exception, we’d have to make another, and wind up submitting to everyone’s demands. So we just said to put up with it for a year. And she seemed to have accepted that well enough.“

Even as Kasai explained, he watched me attentively. As if he were waiting for me to make a sudden slip-up.

”But this morning, we got a call. And then we finally knew. Why did she loathe this cla.s.s so much? And why could she put up with it and attend until two days ago?”

I silently waited for the rest.

“According to what her mother said…” Kasai finally got to the point.

“Yui Hajikano refuses to be in a cla.s.sroom with Yosuke f.u.kamachi.”

I felt like all the air had left my lungs.

“What did you do to Hajikano?”

Coughing out weak breaths and taking in the musty air of the faculty room, I finally managed to speak.

“Yui Hajikano? Yui Hajikano is in Cla.s.s 1-3?”

Kasai snorted. He probably thought I was trying to feign ignorance.

“You should have gotten the roster back in April. You never checked it once? You would’ve had plenty of time in the hospital.”

Several thoughts crossed my mind, but careful not to let them show on my face, I just said “So she is…”

“And?”, he immediately pressed. “Let me ask you again. Do you know any reason why Hajikano would want to avoid you?”

Reflexively, scenes from last night popped up in the back of my mind. The long stone stairs, the desolate shrine park, the swings, the pile of books, the tightening rope, and her birthmark.

Thinking about the birthmark again delayed my reply. Kasai didn’t let it escape his sight. From that subsecond pause, he perceived that I did have some idea.

“I’d like to know that myself,” I said as naturally as I could. “I haven’t been in contact with Hajikano at all since entering middle school. We were together for a short time in grade school, but I think we both thought of each other as good friends at the time. So I don’t have any ideas why she would be avoiding me.”

“Then how would you explain the reason for Hajikano’s absences?”

“I don’t know. Please, ask her.”

Kasai pressed the pen to his temple.

“I know it’s not fair to dig up the past, but… As someone who knows all the trouble you caused in middle school, I have no choice but to dig deep. You understand?”

Aha. So that was the reason for Kasai’s conclusive behavior. No doubt he had spun a story in his mind about me and my delinquent friends bullying Hajikano in elementary school, or something along those lines.

“I understand what you’re saying. It’s reasonable to be suspicious of me,” I partially conceded. “However, as far as this goes, I insist there must be some kind of mistake. Please, ask Hajikano again.”

“We intend to, of course.”

Just as the conversation was wrapping up, the chime to start cla.s.s rang.

“You can head back,” Kasai told me. “Though I’m thinking I’ll have to talk to you again later.”

I wordlessly turned my back and left the faculty room behind me.

When I got back to my seat, Chigusa looked up at me like she was dying to say something. After the incident with Kasai, I was on alert. Maybe she too would have some blame to cast at me from a totally unexpected direction.

“Morning,” I greeted as a diversion.

“Good morning.” Chigusa bowed her head. It was a somehow cold greeting.

“Um, thanks for yesterday,” I said warily.

“Don’t mention it,” she replied rather mechanically.

There was an uncomfortable silence.

I first imagined that the ultimately baseless rumor that I had bullied Hajikano had begun spreading somehow. Next I considered that I had done something to upset Chigusa without realizing, and while thinking back on my interactions with her, she spoke indifferently.

“f.u.kamachi, you seemed to be greatly enjoying yourself a while ago.”

She reminded me of the talk about the ruins I’d been having with Nagahora and his friends, before Kasai called me to the faculty room. His questioning had completely taken away the happiness I’d gotten from that.

I was relieved to realize the reason for Chigusa’s sullen mood. Maybe she didn’t like Nagahora’s friends, or wasn’t one for the mood that came about when they came together. I know I didn’t really care to become too familiar with their circle.

“We were talking about that ruined hotel,” I explained. “They’re going to go there as a test of courage. I told them I’d done something like that in middle school and what it was like, and they were delighted.”

“Are you going with them, f.u.kamachi?”

“Nah. They invited me, but I have plans after school.”

“I see.”

She cleared her throat.

“Erm, f.u.kamachi. Let’s try that again.”

I tilted my head in confusion. Chigusa said “Good morning, f.u.kamachi,” and a kind smile came to her lips.

Ah, I get it.

“Thanks for yesterday,” I told her again.

“Don’t mention it.” Her eyes beamed with satisfaction. “As usual, please don’t hesitate to depend on me.”

“I’ll do that. By the way…” I pointed at the seat diagonal from mine. “Is that Yui Hajikano’s desk?”

Chigusa blinked, then nodded.

“Yes, that is Hajikano’s desk, but you have yet to…” She trailed off and looked up. “Are you acquainted with her?”

“Yeah. We were cla.s.smates in elementary school.”

“Is that so?”

Chigusa perceived the change in my expression and nodded thoughtfully.

“From that look, I’m supposing you were not simply cla.s.smates.”

“Nah,” I shook my head weakly. “We were just cla.s.smates.”

I couldn’t get into my morning cla.s.ses at all. I stared at my blank notes and reflected on my meeting with Kasai. Chigusa talked to me each break, but I could only give her the most unenergetic responses.

While I was changing before third period gym cla.s.s, I casually asked Nagahora something.

“Hey, I wanted to ask about the girl who sits next to you…”

“Next to me… Yui Hajikano?”, he asked as he unb.u.t.toned his s.h.i.+rt. “The girl with that big bruise on her face?”

“Bruise?”, I repeated without thinking.

That was a surprising reply. If Nagahora knew about it, Hajikano’s bruise must have been there some time earlier.

“So what about Hajikano?”

“Oh, she’s just an old acquaintance.”

“Hmm.” He took off his T-s.h.i.+rt and replaced it with his P.E. s.h.i.+rt. “What’s your question, then?”

I thought for a second, then changed my question. “How long has she had that bruise?”

“How long?” Nagahora stopped to think. “I dunno. She had it when I first met her.”

“…I see. Thanks.”

“No prob,” Nagahora nodded.

If he was telling the truth, Hajikano had that mark on her face as of April. I grew increasingly confused.

Let’s try to sort this out. Hajikano, I’m told, doesn’t want to meet me. And this wasn’t just something sudden this morning; since a while ago - perhaps the moment she learned she’d be in the same cla.s.s as me - she made requests of Kasai. So Hajikano avoiding me and the events of last night were unrelated. It wasn’t simply anger for interfering with her suicide, or not wanting to look me in the eye after I’d witnessed such a shameful act.

So, how exactly did Yui Hajikano come to despise Yosuke f.u.kamachi?

I had no guesses - is what I wanted to say, but I did have one theory.

Was Hajikano’s birthmark the same one that had vanished from my face?

Had Hajikano’s beauty been temporarily taken as collateral for the bet?

Thinking back on it, the woman had called it a “bet,” yet there were no apparent stakes. But what if the “money” had already been paid, without my knowledge? And it wasn’t taken directly from me, but indirectly, from Hajikano?

And what if Hajikano found out she was being used as chips in a bet?

From this point, though, it was completely within the realm of fantasy. After all, Hajikano’s birthmark had been there before mine went away. In order for my theory to hold water, one of these had to be true:

1. The woman on the phone rewound time to take the collateral for the bet.

2. The woman on the phone had known from much earlier on that I would take the bet.

So this is where my theory fell apart. But then again, what did “logic” mean when my birthmark should have never just vanished like it did? It was futile to expect coherency from the chain of events surrounding this bet. And evaluating the actions of the woman on the phone in order to guess at her personality and “what she’d probably be thinking” would probably get me to the truth quicker.

So I imagined. One night, Hajikano was walking alone and heard a public telephone ring. Taking the receiver which seemed to beckon for her, that woman told her: “Your beauty has been made the collateral for Yosuke f.u.kamachi’s bet.” Hajikano knit her brows at the crude joke and hung up. And the next morning, she stopped in front of the mirror. A repulsive mark - yet one she felt she knew - had formed on her face. She scrubbed it with soap, but it wouldn’t go away.

That afternoon, worried and perhaps after visiting the hospital, she received another call from that woman. She informed her: “That is the birthmark which was originally on Yosuke f.u.kamachi’s face.”

A doubt naturally occurred to me here. Was there any reason to take such a roundabout method? I considered it from her position, and came to the conclusion which seemed to follow.

Maybe she was trying to test something. To see whether or not, the way Hajikano once did for me, I could treat Hajikano equally when she was robbed of her beauty.

“f.u.kamachi.” Chigusa poked my shoulder. “Is your pondering going to go on much longer?”

I was dragged back to reality, and the tumult of the cla.s.sroom returned. Before I knew it, it was already lunch.

“Nah.” I did a little stretch leaning back on the back of my chair. “I’ll stop now.”

Chigusa grinned and bent to come closer to my desk.

While eating lunch and having a rambling discussion, Nagahora came back from the store, said “I’m gonna intrude,” and placed a chair in front of us. “Yes, you are intruding,” said Chigusa, but she moved her lunch box to make s.p.a.ce for him. They got along.

As the three of us finished eating, Nagahora spoke up.