Vol 1 Chapter 3 (1/2)

Panorama - III

The sun has already fallen as we leave the abandoned building Miss Tōko

calls home. s.h.i.+ki’s apartment is quite close by, but my apartment is about

twenty minutes away by train. s.h.i.+ki’s groggy pace and an unsteady walk

remind me of the lack of sleep mentioned earlier, and I stay close beside

just in case it’s needed. Out of the blue, s.h.i.+ki asks me a strange question.

“Hey, Mikiya. Do you think suicide is right?”

“Hmm, let me think on that…,” I say, trying to drum up a good answer.

“Well, let’s put it this way. Say I had a terribly deadly retrovirus, such that

me just staying alive threatens all of Tokyo. If dying meant everyone would

be saved, then maybe I’d kill myself.”

“What in the h.e.l.l? That’s such a far-fetched scenario it hurts my brain.”

s.h.i.+ki makes a disappointed face.

“Let me finish, alright? Think about it for a moment. I don’t know about

you, but I wouldn’t have the will to live while the whole of Tokyo sees me

as the carrier of a virulent plague. Choosing suicide would be the easier

path. An instant of determination, or a lifetime; I think you can tell which

is the hard choice. And that’s what it boils down to, isn’t it? Death is the

easy choice. And when push comes to shove, I don’t truly think I have what

it takes to make the hard decision.”

After that, we continue to walk in silence, leaving me to think more about

what I said. In my scenario, sacrificing yourself might certainly be the right

thing. It might even be called heroic, another one for the books. But choosing

death for yourself, no matter the practicality of such an action, seems

the foolish thing to do. Struggling through the slings and arrows allows us

to put ourselves to right, and emerge as better people. That’s true bravery,

which I don’t think I could muster. I don’t say it though, since I feel like s.h.i.+ki

is getting annoyed at me again, looking at me doubtfully after my answer.

“Anyway,” I try to conclude awkwardly, “Each person has his own

answers, I guess.”

“You’re different, though,” says s.h.i.+ki, as if reading my mind. s.h.i.+ki said

it in the usual cold front, granted, but it feels as if there’s a compliment in

there somewhere. Slightly taken aback, I couldn’t bring myself to answer it,

and we continue to walk through the city silently. Pretty soon I can hear the

the bustle of people and the noise of engines. It sounds like we’re nearing

the city’s main street, with its ostentatious display of lights and sounds,

accompanied by the wave of people commuting home after a day’s work.

I can just make out the department stores in the distance, and not too far

36 • KINOKO NASU

after that is the train station.

s.h.i.+ki stops suddenly.

“Mikiya, stay over at my place tonight.”

“What in th—“

s.h.i.+ki takes me by the shoulder in a gesture firmly in the “just f.u.c.king do

it, c’mon” variety. s.h.i.+ki’s apartment is closer, and it would be easier that

way, but I don’t think I really should on moral grounds.

“It’s all right, really,” I try to say. “It’d be boring even if I do go there. Or

are you saying there’s something you need me to do?” I know there really

wasn’t anything, so this should have been the end of the discussion, and

yet s.h.i.+ki looks at me accusatorily, like I was at fault.

“Strawberry.”

“Er…”

“Those G.o.dd.a.m.n ice cream cups you bought a while back. They’re still

there. Eat the d.a.m.n things.”

“Well, I suppose I did buy them.” Got me there. I bought that on a hot

day on my way to s.h.i.+ki’s home. Was it really that hot? It’s almost September

after all. Well, whatever. Not like it matters in the grand scheme of

things. s.h.i.+ki’s pulling any excuse to get me to stay, and I suppose I have no

choice but to follow. But I can at least make a feeble attempt to strike back.

There is a topic—serving almost like a trigger—which, when brought to

discussion, makes s.h.i.+ki mad but unable to retort back properly. It’s about

something I really want s.h.i.+ki to do, but in this matter, the universe seems

to have seen it proper to bestow upon s.h.i.+ki the stubbornness of mules.

“I can see there’s no persuading you. All right, I’ll stay over. But s.h.i.+ki…”

Harsh eyes look at me, and I respond with as serious a face I can muster.

“’Eat the d.a.m.n thing?’ Such unseemly words. I’d really like it if you did

something about that. I mean, you are a girl after all.”

Right on target. After I say “girl,” she points a finger at her lips and says

“Hey, my mouth, my choice of words. Got it?”

/ EPILOGUE • 37

Epilogue

That was the day when, led on by nothing except an impulse of curiosity,

I took the main avenue on the way home. It wasn’t a shortcut, and I

didn’t plan on pa.s.sing by any particular place there. It was just something

I decided to do on a whim.

This part of the avenue was full of skysc.r.a.pers and tall condos, some old,

more of them new, while others were abandoned husks, all commingled

into one crowded skyline. I’d wager everybody in the city, including me,

was tired of looking at them day in and day out. While walking beside the

buildings, I suddenly saw something fall from a roof to the concrete sidewalk

a ways ahead of me.

It was a person.

In the moment that that person fell, I heard a sickening sound. The wet,

raw sound you a.s.sociate with the kind of things you don’t want happening

anywhere near you. The kind of sound you never really get to hear often.

Judging from the height that the person fell from, it was clear that whoever

he or she was died the instant it hit pavement.

As I drew closer to the point of impact, I was able to scrutinize what happened

more clearly. All that was left, all that my mind could take in, was the

scarlet trail seeping across the asphalt; the frail, bone-like limbs, and the

long, black hair, which still retained some of its living beauty.

And that dead face.

The scene struck my mind with the image of a flower pressed between

the pages of an old, musty tome. It all seemed vaguely familiar. I knew

what happened here. In the end, I suppose she chose the true slumber,

instead of the lie.

A throng of people had already begun to gather around, and Azaka and

I soon had to work our way through them, avoiding the crowd.

“Miss Tōko, that was a jumper, wasn’t it?”

“I suppose,” I answer almost absent-mindedly. My part in this case had

long since played out. Society had better things to do than psychoa.n.a.lyze

a jumper that just decided to take a tumble out of a building. In the end,

they’d say one suicide is no different from the next. Kirie’s last wish, right

up to the end, was not flight, or even floating, but to fall. A pity, but it’s best

not to dwell on it for long.

“I’ve heard there were quite a lot of cases last year, but I guess it’s still

a trend, huh? I don’t really understand what goes through these people’s

minds, though. Would you, Miss Tōko?”

38 • KINOKO NASU

I nod my head; another vague answer. I look up at the sky, training my

vision on an illusion of the light.

“She had no reason to kill herself,” I say finally. “She just wasn’t able to

fly.”

40 • KINOKO NASU

Part II:

The First

Homicide Inquiry

April 1995.

I met her.

42 • KINOKO NASU

/ 1

A cool breeze blows through the mansion, unexpected when it was just

the end of summer. The wind carries tidings of autumn, and it makes me

want to take an evening stroll again. I’m putting on my shoes, when a voice

from behind me spoke.

“Lady , please do come home early this evening.”

It is Akitaka, my servant. I ignore the impositions on his ever-monotonous

voice, as always, and make my way out of the entrance hall. Past the

courtyard, past the garden, and past the large gate barring entry into the

house, and I’m finally out. Darkness lay beyond this point, there being no

light outside the main grounds itself. There is neither sight nor sound of

any person except for me.

It was midnight, and it would soon be the first day of September. The

bamboo thickets surrounding the periphery of the mansion rustled in the

light breeze, bringing to mind images of wicked monsters beyond them.

Walks through uneasy silences such as these are the only thing I derive

pleasure from.

As the night grows deeper, the darkness draws closer. I think I walk

through this lifeless town because I want to be alone. Or perhaps because

I want to think I’m alone. Either way, in this world, it’d be hard to be completely

left alone anyway. But the city has its ways. I veer off from the main

avenue, taking a detour through a narrow alleyway.

I turn sixteen this year. I’m a first year student at a private high school.

It’s kind of pointless, really. No matter what I do, the mansion and the

dynasty is my future. I chose the school just because it was close to my

house and it would cut down on my commute time, but looking back on it,

that might have been a mistake.

The alley is dark, save for one streetlight flickering nervously like a beacon.

It reminds me of someone.

I’ve been quite restless lately, even during these evening strolls. It’s all

because of that guy, who keeps popping up in my head whenever I least

expect it, and whenever I least like it.

Being in high school didn’t change anything. I couldn’t grow close to

anyone, and they couldn’t grow close to me. I didn’t know why exactly,

but maybe it’s because I easily express what I think in my behavior. That is

to say, I’m a misanthrope. I couldn’t come to like people ever since I was

a child. Being a person, I never liked myself either. I didn’t hate people,

not really. It didn’t stop them from thinking that way, though. It wasn’t

/ 1 • 43

long before my schoolmates got the picture, and within a month, people

stopped trying to ingratiate themselves with me.

Not that I didn’t like a quiet environment either, so that state of affairs

suited me perfectly. But I should have known better than to think it would

last. There is the one cla.s.smate who treated me like a friend, a person with

a surname that sounded like a French poet. The one outstanding quality I

can attribute to him: annoying. So very, very annoying.

I see the shadow of a person in the distant streetlight.



Something about that man seemed strange.

.



I follow him into an alley.



Inside the alley, it’s like an entirely different world. The alley is a culde-sac,

with the buildings forming walls all around it. Because of this, no

sunlight shone upon it even on bright afternoons. Honestly, it looked more

like a room than an alley. There was once one homeless person who lived

in this dead s.p.a.ce, but not today. The walls of this alley just got a brand

new paint job. There is a wet, sticky quality to the ground, and the usual

smell of rotten food is commingled with an even stronger scent.

All around me is a sea of blood. Bodily fluids seep and flow through the

alley, and the sweet, sticky smell pierces my nostrils. In the center of it all

is the corpse. Whatever face he donned in death can’t be seen anymore.

His arms were severed, and the legs became stumps around the knee area,

pressurized blood pouring out of them.

A world so different, even the darkness of night was being overwhelmed

by the bold crimson of blood. It made me so happy. Gracefully, elegantly, I

touch the blood running on the ground, the sleeves of my light blue kimono

turning a deep red. I streak the liquid on my lips, and a drop slips down

lazily across my face. My body shakes in utter ecstasy, as if in a trance. The

first lipstick I ever had.

44 • KINOKO NASU

/ 2

As summer vacation draws to a close, a new semester of high school

begins. Nothing really changes in life, least of all high school. The clothes of

the students change to reflect the approaching cold of autumn, but apart

from that small trifling thing, there is nothing else. The same old routine,

day in and day out.

As for me, I’ve never worn anything other than a kimono my entire life.

Akitaka tried to get me clothes “befitting a woman of my sixteen years”,

but I never even thought of putting them on. Lucky for me, then, that the

school I go to allows you to wear anything you want, so I actually went to

school in my traditional dress. Actually, I wanted to wear the formal style

of kimono, but if I did that, I’d have to spend the entirety of P.E. just to

change clothes (which may not be so bad), so I made a compromise with a

one-layer yukata.

I did worry a bit about what to wear in the cold winter months, but a

solution presented itself yesterday. During break time he approached me

in his usual crude manner, asking if I felt cold.

“Not right now, no,” I replied. “But perhaps in a few more weeks.”

He frowned, as if reading my mind. “You’re wearing that in the winter

too?”

Wanting the conversation to end as quickly as possible, I answered

directly. “Without fail. There’s no need to worry yourself, however. I can

wear something over it, after all.”

“Wow, I didn’t figure there was anything you could possibly wear over

a kimono.” With that, he walked away, puzzled at my answer. It was something

I thought up at the moment, but not wanting to lie, I decided to buy

a warm leather jacket. I’ll wear it when winter comes, but for now, it stays

in my closet.

And just like that, we ended up eating lunch together every day. He

invited me, and I couldn’t refuse out of politeness. We had our meals at

the roof of the school building, where there were pairs of boys and girls

just like us idling their lunch time.

Today’s lunch break is just like any other, and I’m eyeing the other couples

when he suddenly talks to me. I had already planned to ignore him,

but he says something that I couldn’t ignore.

“Murder. It happened on the last day of summer vacation. It was on the

/ 2 • 45

western wing of the commercial district. There’s an embargo on the media,

though, so it hasn’t been reported yet.”

“…That isn’t very nice, is it?” I say nervously.

“Yeah. It’s a weird case, too. Apparently the suspect cut off the victim’s

hands and feet and left him there to die. The crime scene was a mess, and

they had to cordon off the entire location. What’s worse is that the suspect

is still at large.”

“You say the suspect cut off the arms and legs? Can people die from just

that?”

“Blood loss would cause a lack of oxygen in the body, but in this case

I’d say circulatory shock came first,” he says while chewing his food. Outwardly,

he looks like a calm, innocent young man, but in the end I suppose

these are the sorts of things he really wants to talk about. I suppose one of

his relatives is in the police force, or at least has connections there. Surely

not too high a standing, however, else he wouldn’t be leaking information

out like this. “Oh, I’m sorry. I guess this has nothing to do with you, .”

“It’s quite alright…but Kokutō, this isn’t really a meal time topic, don’t

you think?” I complain.

He offers only a simple nod in reply, barely even registering his faux pas.

Good grief. Now, thanks to him, I can’t stomach eating the tomato sandwich

I just bought.

And so I capped of the end of summer and welcome the coming of

autumn by hearing such a morbid rumor. The life that I thought would

never change would soon receive a rude awakening.

46 • KINOKO NASU

/ 3

It’s been raining hard since morning. The clacking of my footsteps on the

school corridor mixed with the pitter-patter sound of the raindrops. School

has concluded for the day, and not a single soul could be found inside the

grounds at this hour. Normally, there would still be students doing club

activities, but the murder incident that Kokutō told me about had finally

gone public, and club activities have since been temporarily suspended.

Akitaka told me in the drive to school earlier this morning that it had

already reached four murders this month alone. That’s what blew this wide

open. The suspect remained as yet free from the law, and whatever personality,

character, or motive he might have for doing this isn’t yet known.

In fact, marking the suspect as male might even be too hasty right now.

There are no common points connecting the victims, except for the fact

that they were all taking a walk quite late in the evening. It really is quite

a different story when it’s happening to your own city instead of some

remote and far away town. Students stop hanging out after school and

go home immediately, and everyone goes home in groups. The vise grip

the murderer has on the city is so tangible I can almost touch it. Even I’m

affected, since the police go on patrols at 9 o’ clock in the evening. I can’t

even go out to do my nightly strolls.

“Four murders…” I whisper under my breath. Four times, I’ve…

“Ryōgi?” someone calls out suddenly. I turn towards the direction of the

voice and see a man I don’t recognize. He’s wearing blue jeans and a white

s.h.i.+rt, both of them quite plain and unsatisfactory. He must be someone in

a higher grade level than me.

“Yes, that would be me. What is it?”

“Oh, please don’t glare at me with those cold eyes of yours. Are you

looking for Kokutō?”

What a foolish man. I could see right through his fake smile.

“I was about to go home. I have no idea how Kokutō factors into that.”

“Is that so?” The drawl in his voice was practically audible at this point.

“That’s where you’re wrong, and you know it. That’s why you’re irritated. It

isn’t good to take it out on someone else. It can be easier to blame anyone

other than yourself. It’s become a habit for you, hasn’t it?” He chuckles at

a joke funny only to himself, but continues. “Ryōgi… don’t you think four

times is a bit too much?”

“What?!” Inadvertently, I take a step back. The man smiles yet again, a

satisfied smile I now realize looks similar to my own.

/ 3 • 47

“I’ve wanted to talk to you for so long now. Now that I have, it’s time

to bid you farewell.” After that, he walks away, the sound of his footsteps

echoing in the dim, empty hall. It produced a vaguely disgusted feeling

inside me. I don’t even want look at him, so I head towards the school

entrance.

After changing out of my school shoes, I head outside only to have the

rain greet me. Akitaka, who was supposed to pick me up, evidently isn’t

here yet. On rainy days such as this one, he would always come by to give

me a ride, but he is obviously late. I’m too lazy to bother changing shoes

again, so I decide to take shelter from the rain in the shade of the entryway.

The rain looks faintly like a veil, and it makes the campus grounds look

as if they were encased by fog. The winter chill makes the pale whiteness

of my breath visible.

I don’t know how much time pa.s.sed by, but before I could notice, Kokutō

had appeared at my side.

“I have an umbrella,” he says awkwardly.

“It’s alright. I have someone picking me up. You should hurry up and

head home,” I urge.

“In a moment. I thought I’d stay here until your driver got here. If that

isn’t too much trouble?”

Without waiting for me to answer, he leans against the concrete wall of

the entrance. I wasn’t thinking on what Kokutō was going to say or about

to say. In fact, I planned on systematically ignoring him until such time that

I could leave.

A miracle. He’s actually quiet for once. I can only hear the sound of the

falling raindrops. Kokutō wasn’t talking at all. I turned to him only to see

that, with a satisfied look on his face, he had already closed his eyes. I

thought that he was sleeping, as unlikely as that may be, but I hear him

singing under his breath. I know it was a famous song, but I couldn’t

remember the t.i.tle.

Truly a miracle. Much later when I got home, I asked Akitaka what the

song was, and it turned out to be “Singing in the Rain.”

Kokutō didn’t speak. We weren’t even a meter apart. For us to be this

close and not talking made me a bit unsettled. It was an awkward situation,

but the silence wasn’t at all painful. Strange. Why was this silence calming?

But then the silence frightened me, as suddenly as I warmed to it. Instinct

raced in my mind, telling me that if it stayed like this, he would come out.

“KOKUTŌ!”

“Yes?!”

With a jump, he opens his eyes and stands straight.

48 • KINOKO NASU

“What happened? Is something wrong?” he says while looking at me

oddly. I see myself reflected in his eyes. Looking at each other like that, it

was probably the first time I really saw Mikiya Kokutō, still just a boy, with

a boy’s face, and a gentle disposition. He had black hair which he didn’t

style in any particular way, and similarly black eyes, where he wore stupid

gla.s.ses that even little children would find atrocious. He wore no accessories,

and his only concession to fas.h.i.+on was his insistence on wearing an

all-black ensemble all the time. It has always puzzled me why he always

gave a mind to anything I did.

“Where…” I look down, trying my d.a.m.ndest to think that the ground is

the most interesting in the world. “Where were you before you came out

here?”

“In the student council room. One of our uppercla.s.smen is dropping out

of school, and we held something like a farewell party for him. His name’s

Lio s.h.i.+razumi. He said he’s dropping out because he found something he

wanted to do. It surprised me, seeing as he was one of those quiet, unsocial

types.” Lio s.h.i.+razumi. I can’t say I’ve heard of the person. But Kokutō

knows a lot of people I don’t. The cla.s.s sees him as a friend to everyone,

and he has some small popularity with the female uppercla.s.sman population.

“I invited you too, didn’t I? I told you when we said goodbye to each

other yesterday, but you never showed up in the student council room. I

looked for you in the cla.s.sroom, but there was no one there.”

He did indeed invite me, but I would’ve just spoiled the mood by going

there. That, and I thought Kokutō inviting me was just him being his usual

polite self. He didn’t really expect me to go…did he?

“Oh, so you were serious?”

“Of course I was! What did you think, ?” Kokutō, understandably,

gets mad, not because of what I said but what I thought he said. I’ve never

really experienced someone being angry at me, and it confuses me. From

that moment on I sink into silence and wait with my mouth shut. I don’t

think there’s ever been a day that I wanted Akitaka to come quickly as

badly as this one. Not long thereafter, the car entered the front gate, and I

say an awkward goodbye to Kokutō.

When the sun began to set, and it grew darker and darker, the rain

finally stopped. Putting on my red leather blouson, I head outside to clear

my head. The night sky overhead is in turmoil. The clouds that blanketed

the sky only occasionally gave way to the moon and the stars. In the city,

/ 3 • 49

policemen in uniform and plainclothes alike patrolled the streets, and I

made my way to the riverbank in hopes of avoiding them.

Wet asphalt reflects the dim glow of the streetlights. From afar, I hear

the menacing metallic rumbling of a train. That means the train viaduct is

near. Almost arbitrarily, I decide to head towards that direction, but I stop

short upon reaching it when I see someone there.

Slowly and purposefully, I approach.

Another train pa.s.ses overhead, probably tonight’s last ride. The noise

is louder this time, since I’m closer, and it sounds like rolling thunder. The

rumble reverberates as loudly as if I was in a sealed room, and I have to

cover my ears if I don’t want to go deaf. After the train pa.s.ses, however, a

solemn sort of silence descends under the viaduct.

Without streetlight or moonlight, this place is in complete darkness.

That might be for the best. Red liquid is spread all around the riverbank,

yet even this is almost black because of the lack of light. This would be the

fifth. The weeds around here are overgrown, but the corpse it surrounds

looks like a single solitary flower, red and artificial. The face is at the center,

with dismembered arms and legs surrounding it, twisted to look like flower

petals, or a manji cross.

I’m starting to get used to this. I gulp, and I realize my throat is dry. Is

it tension, or arousal, I wonder? My thirst burns my throat, but it doesn’t

matter. This place is pregnant with death, and I smile wordlessly in spite of

myself. The thirst turns into screaming ecstasy inside of me, the pleasure

almost too overwhelming, but I manage to hold it back. I gaze upon the

beautiful corpse once more, and feel for once that I am truly alive.

50 • KINOKO NASU

/ 4

At the beginning of each month, it is customary in the Ryōgi dynasty for

the head of the family and the heir to have a sword duel with live steel.

In the past, different swordmasters would be invited to partic.i.p.ate in the

duel, and to teach their craft. But then, tiring of such acts, one of my ancestors

stopped this practice long ago, and created within the manor his own

school of swordsmans.h.i.+p. Into such a tradition was I born, and even a girl

of the Ryōgi dynasty must bear a certain standard with the sword.

My father was a strong man, and skillful with his weapon. In our duel,

he made the sword dance like no other, and easily overpowered me. It

is this disparity in skill and strength that has just made me lose the duel.

After this, I waste no time in returning to the main building of the manor,

which lies a fair bit of distance away from the dōjo. The wooden floor of

the compound is immaculately treated, and makes no sound as my feet

tread upon it.

On the way, I see Akitaka standing in a corridor waiting for me. Ten years

my senior, Akitaka is the servant a.s.signed to me by the household since

my childhood days. He is a dutiful and patient man, especially with me.

He’s probably waiting on me so he can change me out of my sweat-soaked

clothes.

“You fought a close duel today. How is your father?”

“G.o.ddamit, Akitaka, stop shadowing me all the time. I can at least change

by myself. It’s not like we’re joined at the hip. You’d be better served sucking

up to my brother, you know that? Males succeed the dynasty, after all.”

Despite my rudeness, Akitaka smiles. “You are quite wrong, my lady.

There is no successor to the dynasty but you, for you are the only one that

inherited the gift.”

The statement elicits a small chuckle from me. “A gift, is it? What I have,

Akitaka, is a curse.”

Leaving Akitaka in the corridor, I continue to head toward the main building.

Once I reach my room, I instinctively lock the door shut and immediately

undress my training garments. I steal a glance of myself in the mirror,

at the body of a sixteen year old girl. Actually, I only need to put in a little

effort to make my face look like a guy, but I can’t cheat that way with the

rest of my body. The body that continues to grow, month after month, year

after year…the body that s.h.i.+ki detests more and more with each pa.s.sing

day.

“It might have been better for me to be a guy,” I say to no one in particu-

/ 4 • 51

lar. No one is listening, except for me. Except for him. The one inside me

called s.h.i.+ki.