Chapter 4 (2/2)

“What for?” she asked.

“I’m thinking of helping Kamenosuke getting a girlfriend,” I said, looking at the water tank behind me.

Kamenosuke was staring at me curiously.

“I want to get married, and if possible, have three children. I want girls, but I think boys are cute as well. I don’t mind if it’s small, but I want a single-family home with a garden. But they say that home is where you make it, so I think I would actually be happy with anything.

“I never thought about these things up until now. I mean, that’s obvious, isn’t it? There’s no way that a human who wished that she was never born would think about wanting children, is there? But I think about it now.”

After a while, winter vacation ended and there was a bit of news at the start of the new year.

Yos.h.i.+e-sensei had gotten married, and she would be resigning at the end of the school year.

According to the rumors, she’d found her partner through a marriage interview. She’d been going out with Kayama until just half a year ago, so I was a little surprised by how quickly it had happened.

On the other hand, it seemed that Kayama wasn’t really that shocked. “He’s a regular company employee. But when I saw the photo that’s going around, he was so ugly that I wanted to laugh,” he said.

Who pa.s.sed a photo like that around? I wondered, but when I looked at the photo that Kayama sent me, I saw that the man had a s.h.i.+ny bald head, resembling a Nurarihyon from folklore.

One day a little while after that, when first period was Yos.h.i.+e-sensei’s national language cla.s.s, I came into the cla.s.sroom in the morning to see that someone had scribbled on the blackboard.

Yos.h.i.+e-chan, congratulations on your marriage

Alongside those words was a portrait of that Nurarihyon man and a heart, drawn in chalk.

Yos.h.i.+e-sensei came in, saw this and hastily started erasing it from the blackboard, looking embarra.s.sed. “Hey, whose prank is this!” she said, but she didn’t seem to wholly dislike it; she looked a little happy.

I knew that there was only one person in the cla.s.s who would pull off such a stupid prank, and Yos.h.i.+e-sensei probably knew this as well.

“You’re surprisingly pretty good at drawing,” I said to Kayama.

“What are you talking about?” he said, playing dumb with an expression of feigned innocence.

However, I didn’t miss the chalk dust on the sleeves of his uniform. But in the end, I let it go and pretended I hadn’t seen it.

“I had a lot of things that I wanted to do for you. I wanted to do all kinds of things for you. I only ever had you do things for me, and I wasn’t really able to do anything for you, was I, Takuya-kun? I’m sorry for being a bad girlfriend.

“But it would be nice if you could quickly find a new girlfriend. Men can’t always be dwelling on their ex-girlfriends. But still, it’s alright if you remember me from time to time as well, right?”

Just once, I saw Riko-chan-san.

On a Sunday, when I was walking near that maid café, I saw her on the footpath on the other side of the road.

Riko-chan-san was walking with a tall guy, their arms linked.

I thought about shouting and calling out to her, but I decided not to in the end.

That scene somehow looked very happy to me. Riko-chan-san had a broad smile on her face as she engaged in an animated conversation with the guy. I didn’t want to break that scene.

I wanted that moment to last forever. I wished that it would. And then I felt a little jealous.

After that, I never saw Riko-chan-san again.

The 49th day went by, and half a year later, I visited Mamizu’s grave. Makoto-san had invited me to go and visit the grave with him. At first, I thought I’d go and secretly visit it myself later, because I kind of felt a little embarra.s.sed about various things.

TLN: There is a Buddhist service held 49 days after someone’s death.

But I felt like if I did that, I would be no different from my old self.

When the ones we love die,

we must commit suicide.

That poem, the one written by Nakahara Chuuya, actually had more lines following that.

Back then, I hadn’t properly read it until the end, but when I’d read it again the other day, there was something else written there.

It continued like this.

But if we continue on,

beyond redemption,

let us shake hands in good rhythm.

I wondered what the poem meant for a while. And then I realized that there wasn’t enough meaning in it for me to think that deeply about it. It probably meant that humans who live on should get along with other humans who live on.

In any case, under those circ.u.mstances, I invited Kayama and went to the front of the station where we’d agreed to meet. Things had been arranged so that Makoto-san would come and pick us up there.

“What on earth is that?” Kayama asked in surprise as he saw me.

I had brought Kamenosuke and his lover in a bucket that was filled with a little water. Incidentally, I hadn’t given the second turtle a name yet. But I was planning to properly give her one soon.

“Well, I thought I’d bring these turtles,” I said.

“I don’t think normal humans take turtles with them when they go to visit graves.”

As we were having this conversation, Makoto-san’s car arrived.

“It’s been a while,” he said.

Apparently, Makoto-san had changed jobs now. He was working in sales, and the air about him had changed a little. He had begun to dress somewhat smarter, too. He didn’t look particularly surprised to see Kamenosuke and the other turtle.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Takuya-kun?” said Ritsu-san, who was sitting in the pa.s.senger seat. She and Makoto-san hadn’t put themselves back on the family register, but they seemed to be meeting more frequently than they had in the past.

Come to think of it, this is the first time Ritsu-san has called me by my name, I thought.

“Have you been doing well?” Makoto-san asked, starting a conversation like a father who was seeing his sons for the first time in a long time.

“I’ve started skateboarding recently,” replied Kayama, who was sitting in the back seat with me.

He’d actually started skateboarding, and he had numerous small injuries and grazes from falling over. I had no idea what was so fun about it, so I hadn’t felt like joining him, but I didn’t have any negative feelings about seeing Kayama do something earnestly for once. Hearing this, Makoto-san engaged in conversation with Kayama and laughed, seeming to enjoy himself.

“Takuya-kun, haven’t you started doing anything?” Makoto-san asked me.

“I’m going to start something as well,” I said.

I didn’t know what that would be, but I thought that it had been long enough for me to be able to start something. If I dragged my feet too long, Mamizu would be disappointed. No, rather than being disappointed, she’d feel bored and restless. That’s what I thought.

Now that I thought about it, there were still several things in Mamizu’s notebook that I hadn’t done yet. I’d looked back at it the other day and laughed at the one that said, “I want to touch my chin with my elbow before I die.”

“Hey, Kayama, can you touch your chin with your elbow?” I asked.

“… Isn’t that impossible?” Kayama tried for a little while, and then quickly gave up.

Makoto-san tried to join in while driving, so we hastily stopped him, though. It was surprisingly difficult; it seemed possible, and yet, it was impossible. It was possible that this was a more difficult problem than the Poincaré conjecture.

“Come to think of it, I was thinking of naming the new turtle I bought. Do you have any good ideas?” I asked n.o.body in particular.

“Sakura,” Makoto-san said, looking outside his window at the cherry blossoms that hadn’t bloomed yet.

“Could it be that when you named Mamizu…” I had a bad feeling as I began to ask my question.

“Of course, I was drinking water. I was hungover, you see.”

“So, what if you were drinking tea at the time instead?” Kayama asked unnecessarily.

“If it was green tea, then I’d probably have named her ‘Midori,’” Makoto-san said.

“You’re the worst,” I said, letting out a little laughter.

TLN: 桜 (sakura) is j.a.panese for ‘cherry blossom.’ The みず (mizu) in Mamizu’s name means ‘water.’ みどり (midori) means ‘green.’

“Takuya-kun, haven’t you become somewhat more cheerful?” Makoto-san said, looking at my expression through the back mirror.

“I’m shaking hands in good rhythm,” I said.

Makoto-san looked puzzled. I couldn’t blame him.

And then there was an idiot whistling and holding his hand out towards me. It was Kayama, of course.

“It helps me out that you’re an idiot,” I said as I shook his hand.

The graveyard was about twenty minutes away by car. It was a s.p.a.cious graveyard facing a crowded temple that was something of a sightseeing spot.

“Wow, it’s so s.h.i.+ny. It feels brand new,” Kayama said as he saw Mamizu’s grave, giving his idiotic impression of it.

Makoto-san laughed, and I looked at him and noticed that he was wearing a m.u.f.fler now. He’d probably put it on when we got out of the car. It was the m.u.f.fler that Mamizu had knitted.

“You’re wearing a m.u.f.fler even though it’s spring,” I said.

Makoto-san gave an embarra.s.sed smile. It was still only the end of March, so it was a little chilly, but Makoto-san was the only person wearing a m.u.f.fler. Well, I was probably the only guy holding turtles, too.

I took out the snow globe that I’d finally completed recently from my pocket, and placed it beside Mamizu’s grave.

Inside the snow globe, there were two people standing close together, wearing a wedding dress and a tuxedo. It was like time had stopped inside it.

And then the four of us put our hands together and closed our eyes in front of the grave.

Soon, spring would come.

The season in which I’d first met Mamizu.

But I didn’t want to die.

I was even looking forward to seeing the cherry blossoms bloom.

I took the voice recorder from my pocket and pushed the earphones into my ears.

I closed my eyes and listened one more time to Mamizu’s voice, saying the words that I’d listened to over and over.

“My father was calling you on the phone. I’m sure that my final moment is coming soon. This is my real, genuine, final request.

“I love happiness. I’m so scared of dying that I can’t help myself; I’m so terrified that I feel like my heart will stop out of fear. But I’m not scared anymore.

“I’m happy. What about you, Takuya-kun? Please do your best to become happy for my sake. I am praying for your happiness from the bottom of my heart.

“This will be the final communication from Watarase Mamizu.

“Goodbye. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Mamizu’s grave didn’t have ‘無’ written on it like s.h.i.+zusawa Sou’s.

It simply read,

Watarase Mamizu

It’s fine that way, I thought.

Author’s afterword:

h.e.l.lo everyone. This is my debut work.

Thank you very much for reading it.

The characters in this novel may appear to be a little strange.

The way the protagonist Takuya lives his life is somewhat reckless, and Kayama seems to be living in a simple, hedonistic way, so they are both quite distorted. The other characters are all a little strange, too.

But to me, they do not seem all that strange. It is not that they are deliberately living their lives in strange ways. They are desperately living as best as they can in their own ways, and as a result, they shoulder the burdens of life.

In my teenage years, I felt the burdens of life as they did.

I felt like I had nowhere to go, but I was saved by novels. That was why, before I knew it, I had naturally started to write novels myself. I thought that I wanted to become a novelist, but at the same time, I thought that it might be impossible.

In the end, I graduated university and found employment. Cornered by my work, my motivation to write novels gradually disappeared.

“There’s no way I can become a novelist.”

That was my favorite phrase.

I had a friend who told me, “You definitely can. So be one.” They read the things I wrote with interest. I was working at my company on the night that friend committed suicide.

Ever since then, like the protagonist of this novel, I felt guilty about living. And in truth, for the longest time, I could never understand what my friend who died had been thinking.

Unable to sleep, I often went out for walks at night. I continued walking for hours and hours, and on one such walk, when it became morning, I decided to write novels.

And so, I quit my job and began writing novels.

This world is full of unreasonable, painful, and cruel things.

I think that it is a very natural thing to start wanting to die.

I wanted to write a novel that would make its readers want to live on despite that.

If my work made someone feel this way, even a little, that would make me extremely happy.

Now that I have become a novelist, when I look back, I realize that the words of my late friend were right. I do not know what Takuya will do from this point on, but I want him and every person in the world who shoulders all of the difficulties that life brings to do their best.

It’s all right. You can definitely do it.

I received the help of many people for the release of this book. Loundraw-sama, who drew images that far surpa.s.sed what I, the author, had imagined. When I first saw the ill.u.s.trations, I whispered, “Wow,” feeling moved. Also, Yamaguchi Kouzaburou-sama, Ayasaki Shun-sama, Aoi Blue-sama, who provided me with wonderful recommendations and comments. From all of these people that I admire, I received words that I felt were almost wasted on me. The editors in charge, Yuzawa-sama and Endou-sama. They identified suitable directions for an unskillful author and his unskillful work to take. I truly thank everyone, including those whose names I have not mentioned here. In my teenage years, I would never have imagined that a work that I started writing myself would receive help from so many people and make it out into the world.

There may be some poorly-written parts, but I put everything I have possessed up until now into this novel.

‘I will write everything I can write right now into the work in front of me.’ I always think this, and within three days of finis.h.i.+ng writing, I begin wanting to write again. I always feel like there are things that I haven’t written about.

That is why I will continue to write novels until I die.

I hope to see you again in my next novel.

Tetsuya Sano

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