The Part of Me That Isn't Broken Inside

by Kazufumi Shiraishi

  And then he gtes on to say, "Let man make the happiness of his life consist, not in the well-being of his animal individuality but in the happiness of other beings, and the scarecrow of death will disappear forever from his view."

  I recalled Eriko’s face, as my consciousness began to gradually blur.

  I’d probably never see her again.

  She certainly wouldn’t forgive me for being the person I am.

  On the evening of President Nakagaki’s wake, in bed, hugging me tightly, Eriko said, "For my companion, a plain person would suit me just fine, not a passionate or sentimental person. You find plenty of people like that around. I want to be with someone who’s a novelty, someone forever irreplaceable, no matter how hard you try to find a match, because he’s peerless. You’re that kind of a person. You’re a person with a hole in his heart. It’s afflicted, and it can never find fulfillment. You may have tenderhearted feelings, but your mind is whimsical and cold, although not so cold as to drive a person into a corner. Still, you throw caution to the wind sometimes, don’t you? Behave with wild abandon? But you know what? You live with so much pain. I don’t know why I love you, but I certainly can’t overlook the fact that there’s a hole in your heart.

  "When I talk about someone who’s peerless, I’m talking about someone who’s my one and only soul mate; someone whom I can convince that there’s no one else in the world but me who can truly see him, who can truly appreciate him. So if there can only be one man like him, then there can only be one woman like me. I’m sure that’s how it goes.

  "I can’t ever forget you. No matter how old I get, even if I end up with some other person, I think there will be times when I remember you, out of the blue. For instance, when I happen to find myself alone and spot some

  trees across the street, or when I take a trip to the seashore and get separated from my husband and my children, and find myself floating above the waters of the ocean, alone, thinking to myself, ahh how dazzling the sun is—in that moment, I think I’ll suddenly find myself yearning for you. And that person I’ll be imagining then will be the same as you are right now: kind and brooding, living with so much angst, so much pain.

  Ha, ha. I’m stuck, you know, like a sweater caught on something. It’s no big deal, but I can’t even move a muscle anymore.

  At that time I just laughed it off, saying, I guess you’re telling me that I’m just a rusty nail on the wall! But in my heart I was bowing deeply in deference to those words of hers.

  It was still dark when I awoke.

  I got out of bed and removed the cell phone from the charger I’d kept on the bookshelf. I took a look at the records of incoming calls, but saw that there were none from Eriko. It was 2:00 a.m. exactly. Although I don’t recall at what time I’d fallen asleep, I reckon I’d had over twelve hours of sleep. It had been quite a while since I’d slept for so long. The booze was out of my system, but my head felt awfully heavy.

  The date had changed to the fourteenth, a Sunday. My precious vacation had turned out to be a disaster. From the next day I’d have to show up in my office again and start handling jobs that aren’t fun or interesting.

  What the hell am I doing?

  It isn’t just work that isn’t fun or interesting. It’s my life itself; I haven’t found any joy in it at all, not one bit. So why do I go on living?

  One Thursday afternoon, as I recall, I was having a meal in a restaurant at Fukuoka Airport when my younger sister, who had come to see me off, took a dig at me, saying, Momma often used to cry alone—for three years, that’s all she did. And you never came home, no matter how many times she called.

  What on earth was making her so sad that she had to cry?

  Staring at her baby boy who’d come home after six days, she had a dumbfounded look on her face, as if she were seeing a ghost. And when she turned to face the two social workers standing there together with me, she suddenly bowed her head before murmuring in a small voice—I’m sorry.

  I swallowed the words stuck in my throat, baffled by why Momma had said those words when I believed at the time that it was I who should’ve been saying them. Suddenly, she crouched down in front of me and took me into her arms, snatching me away from the social worker holding my hand. It was only when she then said, I’m sorry, I’m sorry over and over again while crying, that I finally realized that I hadn’t done anything wrong. She continued to hug me so tightly that my breath got stifled, and my mind went blank.

  At that moment I realized, for the first time, that my mother had abandoned me.

  When a human being stumbles upon something truly painful, he reaches his wit’s end. He becomes incapable of crying, of even laughing. All he can do is become afraid.

  And so, my entire body was shuddering in terror, while I stood there in the embrace of my mother’s arms.

  24

  DURING THE MONTHS OF July and August, I worked tirelessly.

  I’d launched a few projects within the past several months to compensate for the loss of the new novel, but a collection of essays by a certain writer, which we’d released at the end of July as a makeshift means to balance the accounts, sold unexpectedly well, so I got extremely busy supporting this book’s sales. Accompanying the author on a nationwide book tour, which was arranged on the fly, I was present at every TV station where he made his television appearances, and attended to fine-tuning his ever-growing publicity schedule. When circulation went up, meetings with the advertising department and the business department became frequent, so I began to literally find myself rushing around inside and outside the company; I was that busy.

  Amid such a flurry, I moved.

  The burden of sending money home was largely reduced due to my mother’s death, and my younger sister, who was working in her local area, was going to get married within the year. So since I could expect more financial freedom in the future for myself, I resolved to move to a more spacious apartment. Contacting a few real estate brokers, I had them fax me any information on available properties, after which I found one I liked, so I promptly signed a contract and finished moving sometime around the middle of August. This new apartment was in Kagurazaka, near my office, and overall it was a very convenient place to live alone.

  The apartment was brand-new, came with an automatic lock installed, and was sufficiently roomy.

  Of course, this time around I got into the habit of properly locking the door.

  But every time I locked and unlocked the door, I remembered Eriko.

  I didn’t contact Raita and Honoka. They’d stopped making their occasional visits anyway, so I don’t think they were particularly inconvenienced.

  Speaking of Raita, I ran into him at an unexpected place in the beginning of August. At that time, a party was being held in Hotel New Otani to celebrate the seventieth birthday of the former Prime Minister who had released his memoirs during New Year’s time, and when I attended this event, I bumped into a well-dressed Raita with a TV camera battery strapped over his shoulder. I was surprised because I never expected to see him in a place like this, but when I asked, he said that after President Nakagaki died, he asked Terauchi for help and ended up working part-time at a TV station. As a member of the shooting crew, he was apparently running around Tokyo every day. He was looking much healthier than I expected, sporting a dark tan. He laughed, telling me that Honoka was still busy as a bee job-hunting. Neither of us touched on the subject of Eriko. After only four or five minutes of talking on our feet, Raita hastily left the hall, saying he had to go to his next assignment.

  As for Teruko Onishi, I’d lost touch with her ever since conveying my mother’s passing to her. For her too, that must have been the turning point.

  As for Tomomi, I broke up with her at the end of July.

  A little while after a row over Takuya’s hospitalization, Tomomi was in talks with Park for a possible reconciliation. One night during the rainy season, when customer traffic ceased because of the driving rain, Tomomi, in her deserted shop, confid
ed as much to me. It was, if I remember correctly, several days before President Nakagaki committed suicide.

  Tomomi was confused, saying, I’d gone to formally ask him to break up with me, so I really don’t know what happened! I don’t know how we ended up having a talk like that. According to her, he’d done a complete about-face, resolutely refusing to divorce her, and, in the end, even telling her that he wanted to live together again, as a family, just as they had once been. I was listening to her, thinking that it was typical of Park to behave in such a way, but by the time she’d spoken at some length, I was able to grasp that Tomomi wasn’t all that unwilling herself.

  I became all the more convinced of this after I was told for the first time the details of the quarrel the two had had in the past.

  Although I don’t know what Park’s side of the story is, according to Tomomi, the reason why she’d originally given up on Park wasn’t because of Takuya or the nationality issue, but because a money-related complication involving a woman had come to light. At that time, Tomomi had just had Takuya, had washed her hands of the theater, and was in the middle of preparing to launch New Seoul with the money she’d begged in tears from her parents in Sendai, along with a bunch of other loans she’d obtained from various other places. This was because Park

  hardly seemed to see himself as a father, even after having had a son, so she thought that it was simply out of the question to leave her future in his hands. Anyhow, just when she’d finally secured all the necessary funds, and the prospect of buying the rights to the shop was in sight, trouble brewed between Park and a woman in his acting troupe, provoking the woman’s common-law husband to blackmail Park.

  Suddenly, Tomomi recalled, he came back out of the blue, looking very pale, and fell on his knees and begged for forgiveness. I pretty much figured out that he was involved in yet another scrape with a woman, but when I asked him anyway about what happened, he said he was being threatened by the husband and had promised to pay him three million yen as compensation. What’s more, Park had even promised him in writing; apparently he was confined in a cheap hotel for around two days by the husband’s gang of hoodlums, and was apparently grilled, and since he’s basically a coward, he ended up giving in to their demand of writing up a signed statement that incriminated him. And there I was, having made an all-out effort to buy the shop, having finally raised all the money. I mean, hell! I’d really had just about enough of him, I tell you! I consulted my acquaintance’s lawyer, but he told me that the situation was hopeless since Park had agreed in writing to pay, so the guy was shedding tears like rain and apologizing, but frankly, I was the one who really wanted to cry.

  And so, what did you do about the money? I asked.

  I paid, but I kicked him out, telling him to never show his face again.

  Hearing this story, I felt Tomomi and Park would be able to start over again any number of times, since their falling-out didn’t seem that dire. Unlike ages ago, Park’s Korean nationality didn’t pose an obstacle to marriage or compromise Takuya’s future, and in another few years, men and women marrying Koreans and Chinese will certainly cease to be a novelty. Besides, Park, though he was definitely theatrical and pretentious, didn’t seem like a bad person at heart.

  When I visited Tomomi’s shop, after a long absence at the end of July, and told her that I’d be moving, she looked surprised, but took in the news without any difficult.

  Of course she asked me for the reason, so I told her it was because my mother had died.

  And so with such a thing happening, I said, I wanted to change my life a little.

  I see … she said, before surprising me with what she said next. She was suffering for quite a long time, wasn’t she? I mean it was nearly three years ago when I heard from you about your mother’s situation. I was always kind of worried myself.

  How did you know?

  I had no recollection whatsoever of speaking to her about my mother’s illness. According to Tomomi, however, I’d apparently told her, two or three months after we began seeing each other, that my mother had been admitted into the hospital with cancer, and that there was no hope of saving her.

  But since then, Tomomi said, you haven’t said anything, so I remained silent.

  I was genuinely surprised. I must have been very drunk at the time. However, as soon as I supposed so, an eerie doubt flared up in my mind; I wondered whether Tomomi might have heard everything from me about Eriko and about Mrs. Onishi as well. I tried to banish the thought, but the conversation was getting dreary anyway.

  Tomomi said, When a parent dies, you experience all kinds of emotions, especially when your mother dies.

  What are you talking about? Both of your parents are alive and well, aren’t they?

  Oh my, haven’t I told you? My father remarried. My real mother died when I was in the eighth grade.

  It was the first time I’d heard this story, or perhaps I’d heard it previously, but I just didn’t remember.

  Is that so? I said in a surprised tone.

  Actually, Tomomi said, looking fed up with me, as I recall, I think I’ve told you once before.

  Say hello to Takuya for me, won’t you? I said as I was preparing to leave the shop. And please let him know that I’ll always be around for him, to be his mentor, to help him out with anything in his life. But I guess he won’t be needing my guidance until he’s much, much older.

  After I said so, the somber look on Tomomi’s face melted slightly for the first time.

  Okay, I’ll be sure to tell him. You’ve taken good care of him until now, haven’t you? Thank you.

  Hey, I’m the one who should say thanks. I’m glad I got to know you and Takuya.

  When I stepped out of the shop, Tomomi came to the front to see me off. The rainy season was over and it was oppressively hot day after day. Even though it was already past eleven, the town was still enveloped in sweltering heat.

  It’s really summer now, I said.

  Tomomi nodded slightly, staring down her long skirt at her feet.

  What are you going to do about moving?

  I’ve already made all the arrangements with a forwarding agent, so everything’s taken care of.

  I see.

  I stood in front of her and took her hand. Tomomi looked up and stared at me.

  I’ve met him only once, so I can’t say for sure, but I think he’s probably a good person.

  Tomomi just smiled without saying anything.

  Well then, goodbye, I said.

  Bye-bye.

  I hadn’t walked far when I heard a voice behind me. I turned around and saw Tomomi laughing.

  I can say for sure that you’re a good person, she said.

  I smiled. She gave a big wave. I gave a big wave.

  And that’s how we parted ways.

  I returned to Kokura on August 25, Sunday, to attend my mother’s memorial service, which was held, according to custom, on the forty-ninth day after her passing. Since I was able to stay for only one night during the Obon Holidays, this time I took three days off from work.

  After the memorial service held at the Koboji temple was over I talked for a while with my sister’s fiancé over dinner. We’d exchanged greetings at the time of the funeral, but it was the first time for us to have a leisurely face-to-face conversation. He was working in the same credit loan company my sister was working in, and he was also twenty-six, just like my sister. Wearing glasses and appearing slightly plump, he seemed like a really calm and collected young man. He graduated from Saga University and joined his present company as a local recruit, but since his parents were running a rather large leasing company in Saga city, as the eldest son, he’d eventually be inheriting the company, he explained.

  I thanked my sister for picking such an ideal partner. After all, now that she’d be living in neighboring Saga city, the task of carrying out the memorial service for our mother, whose ashes were in Koboji’s charnel house, wasn’t going to be that much of a challenge.

 
; The two of us were talking about having the wedding ceremony while Mother-In-Law was well, but I’m truly sorry for how suddenly she left us.

  Please don’t be, I said in response to his gracious apology. I don’t know how to thank you for taking such good care of Mother before she passed away. Because of my job, I don’t think I’ll be returning to Kyushu again, so I believe I’ll have to ask you to take care of my younger sister and help manage our affairs with the temple. I’d appreciate your support. I bowed deeply.

  There was no friction between him and me. But when he said that he’d like to postpone his wedding from the planned date in October to a date after the first anniversary of my mother’s death next year, out of respect, I objected strongly, saying that there was no need to do so.

  There is no better way to pray for the repose of Mother’s soul than for the two of you to get married as soon as possible.

  Is that how you feel? he asked, wearing a thoughtful look. Actually, Father-In-Law had said the same thing, so she and I were talking about doing so.

  Father-in-law? I was surprised. So you’ve met him as well?

  The father of my younger sister was currently living in Hiroshima with his new family. Although my sister had informed him of my mother’s death, I don’t believe he’d turned up at the wake or the funeral. My sister, who was seated next to her fiancé, spoke hesitantly. After the funeral, she said, Father immediately came to make an incense offering. That’s when he kindly met him. Last week, the two of us even went up to Hiroshima, you know. The family warmly welcomed us there. I was so glad. Next to her, her fiancé was nodding. This was news to me.

  I see … I had nothing more to say. The two people in front of me were steadily on their way to building a new family; so be it. Turning a new leaf after her mother’s death, my younger sister had gotten back together with her estranged father, and intended to begin a certain level of association with her half-siblings.