I was no stranger to words like that, because Miko practically beat me over the head with them. That alone was enough for me to feel uneasy, to anticipate a big backlash.
On the other hand were the eerie rumors that the public would hit an all-time low after Her Majesty’s interview. Some people said we might see the biggest and baddest murder- suicide in this Island Country’s history on the day itself.
According to the policy makers’ spin, a specific public safety plan was already in place, and they were on top of everything, but it all sounded fishy. Etched in everyone’s heart was the idea that the love suicides up to that point would seem laughable once things really started to escalate, almost as if to ensure the creepy rumors would become reality.
They didn’t want the live broadcast of Her New Majesty’s press conference to be as big a deal as His Young Majesty’s succession ceremony, but the audience share was still substantial. I watched the TV station’s live coverage streaming on the net. First, Her New Majesty read a prepared statement:
“Over the past year since His Departed Majesty left us, I have prayed for his eternal happiness. Citizens, I know your profound sadness over His Departed Majesty’s premature passage to ancestor. The sadness may not end with today’s official close to the mourning period. Let us not forget His Departed Majesty’s bequest nor our own grief as we step out and face the construction of a new society. For this will make His Departed Majesty’s wishes possible.”
I kept a recording, which is why I could transcribe it like this. When I heard it live, I couldn’t get over how weak, pointless, stereotypical, and completely uninspiring her words were, like they melted away in the surroundings and disappeared. I couldn’t even understand what she was saying.
Her answers to questions were also vague. When asked about her memories of His Young Majesty, she said, “While he was very noble, he also had the heart of the common people. When we were children, he was the ideal big brother.” –––– How will you approach your new role?
“I want to protect the values that have been handed down by a long line of Majesties, and I hope a life-size society will be built.”
––––The situation for our society has been unbearable since His Young Majesty’s death. What are your feelings about this?
“It pains me greatly. My prayers go out to the people so that we may all soon live healthy and safe lives.” ––––Do you have any ideas for what might help that happen?
“If we renew his call and all the citizens band together, I think His Departed Majesty’s bequest can be realized even in his absence.”
––––What do you think His Departed Majesty’s bequest is in concrete terms?
“For each and every person to think of this Island Nation as their own and to foster a society where people can live with a sense of security.”
The interview went on like that for more than thirty minutes, with her flip-flopping all the way, until it just trailed off at the end like a video feedout.
My mom called as soon as it was over, and she was livid. “That’s not going to stop the killing!” She rambled on in a one-sided conversation about how her hopes had been dashed. She tossed aside a final confession, “I’m not investing any more hope in this Majesty. I was stupid,” before hanging up the phone.
My mom’s negative reaction was consistent with the general public response. There weren’t many people who criticized Her New Majesty in public, but a deep and angry undercurrent was evident behind closed doors, where people railed against her and privately lamented how betrayed they felt. The desire to forget about her quickly led to indifference, and less and less attention was paid to her presence. In actuality, her health deteriorated after the interview, and for months she disappeared from public view.
I wasn’t surprised in the least. That’s the true nature of Majesties. Udzuki was right. There’s no problem as long as Their Majesties and the people don’t interfere with each other. No matter how big a negative reaction such apathy might provoke, the end result is still getting “spirited away.” The wild love suicide maelstrom occurred during a prolonged reactionary period. The emptiness of apathy gave rise to the tempestuous extreme. Even the increased hopes placed in Her New Majesty might have stemmed from an insatiable desire to connect to another, to be cared for and to care. When Her Majesty didn’t satisfy those yearnings, it became clear that nothing could be done about the climate of violence. The “anyone will do as long as someone dies with me” mindset was bound to blow up into a singular and absolute obsession.
The temperature suddenly rose in March, and who knows whether the prior owner planted them, but in the woods surrounding the lodge, red and white blossoms burst into full bloom along outstretched plum tree branches, greeting and asphyxiating people with their perfume. Mokurenvariety lily magnolias lit up branches like enormous candles giving off white flames. The rough currents that had kept me on edge until that point no longer needed calming, because the sudden warmth was a sign that the yellow sand would soon follow. The idea of heat and great sprays of sand called to mind the cherry blossoms that bloomed overnight, and the sensations of that day of the State Funeral were rekindled on my skin. My eyes were battered by the sand pellets, and for days and days the pain and tears wouldn’t stop. Even though I was blinded, Inoue took my hand. I can still feel his palm against mine. I still cherish and use the cobalt blue bowl and aqua spoon with the fish design. Miko and Inoue were beaming with joy even while they were so flustered and embarrassed when they first met. I was so stupid to watch them like that, feeling so pleased with myself. After they left the restaurant, the regrets and guilt kicked in. I drank with Mokuren that night and innocently thought I could ask for a do-over, that we could go back to square one and make a fresh start. And when I saw Inoue’s document, I was angry enough to explode.
At what point did I seal my fate? I must have known that I was fanning the flames of a fire that would burn me.
I don’t know. I just can’t bring myself to think of it all as some history I’ve moved past. That incident isn’t over yet. Even now, Inoue and Miko haven’t finished dying. The murder is still happening. And the hand that keeps killing them is groping for me, trying to drag me in too.
Unlike the New Majesty boom that hit shortly before the anniversary of His Young Majesty’s death, no one says a word about Inoue and Miko when their death anniversary draws near, and not even on the day itself. That goes not only for the mass media, but for the general public too.
The indiscriminate love suicides were still raging. The pace dropped off some, but that was because people were too scared to leave home much. Ever since the let-down after Her New Majesty’s interview, it was is if the world was waiting for the sky to fall.
Honestly, it was like living through a war. “Evacuated” households were sent to remote locations, and rich people sought refuge overseas. In order to be more self-sufficient, people started vegetable gardens on rooftops, in backyards, or anywhere else they could find space. It was around that time when the phrase “self-reliant living” became popular and growing your own food took on a powerful, new meaning. I wonder why the soil became the “real deal.” Everyone went on about how it was the “true origin of human life,” so a lot of people were carried away by the half-assed, pseudo-return-to-the-land craze.
Meanwhile, government officials looked into legal options for sending in the Self Defense Forces to keep the peace or instituting martial law, because only the police were charged with maintaining order, and sometimes a cop would commit an indiscriminate love suicide. Those fiercely opposing such measures argued that if a member of the Self Defense Forces were to commit an indiscriminate love suicide, the attendant shock would be severe, and Self Defense Force members threatened to resign if ordered to treat their own countrymen as the enemy, so the matter was dropped.
It’s arrogant to lose sight of how it all started and act as if these unusual circumstances had been around for ages as just another aspect of everyd
ay life. I don’t think there were many who actually forgot about Inoue and Miko altogether, but based on what I could gather from the occasional internet message board entry, the two of them were being purged from society’s memory and records, as though people only wanted to remember it as the incident that made the lack of interpersonal connection seem trivial. There was no sign of the Inoue-hating that had given everyone their motivation at one time, as if all that had been a lie.
Even if people have some semblance of memory, maybe what they don’t have is a sense of history. For me, that one day was drawn out for a year (and another five years since then), but they must remember it like a high-impact Hollywood blockbuster. Everyone is caught up in it for a time, but maybe only the terror right in front of them seems real.
Of course, I’m hardly one to talk. I responded just like anyone else when it came to a love suicide involving someone other than Inoue and Miko. I trembled in fear.
On the first of April, I went out to the spring just before dawn. The moments before sunrise were freezing, but the cold also revived me. It was as if all the excessive poisons and regrets were being wrung out of my body, and I could breathe easy again. At that hour, the birds were stirring in preparation for the morning. The sequence started with the chattering of the little birds and ended with the crows. The sun began to rise in the eastern sky, which was the color of Kôshû grapes. Even with the sun out though, the spring was still well under the forest’s protection, so I’d gaze at the transparent rays of light that made their way through the spaces between leaves and branches, sometimes just basking in the golden glow piercing through into openings in the woods. Like a spotlight, the light began to shine down upon the glassy surface of the spring and illuminate the carpets of moss covering the rocks. I ate the toasted cod roe rice balls I’d prepared the night before, sipped the sweet green tea I’d steeped at 160 degrees for a few minutes, and savored the caramel-colored light. With my camera rolling right beside me, it was better than words can describe.
I didn’t want to see anyone or say any words that day. That’s why I’d planned to stay there through the middle of the night. A cool wind blew almost all the whitish petals off the mountain cherry trees onto the surface of the water. The mountainside was bursting everywhere with white flowers. Lulled by the warm air produced as the sun rose higher in the sky, I stretched out on a rock and napped off and on.
After waking up from one of many, I went to the spring to wash my face and thought I saw someone other than myself reflected in the mirrored surface. I looked closely, but not much light made it to the black water, so I couldn’t tell if maybe it was a shadow or something underneath the surface. I looked up and scanned the area all around me, but there was no one besides me there.
I looked back at the mirror-like water. This time I saw two figures, not counting myself. Before long, one of them brought his right hand up against the side of his head and waved his five fingers like he was playing the piano.
“Miko!” I couldn’t help calling out his name. That was Miko’s way of greeting me. And that meant the other person was…
Yes, it was Inoue. He held out his beloved handheld camera. Caught in the dream, I grabbed my camera too and tried filming around over my head. The two of them were nodding. It seemed like they were outdoors, sitting on some kind of rock or stump. Scattered clouds drifted behind them, and sometimes their hair would be blown by the wind.
I remained gazing at the water in that position for a while. Just seeing Miko and Inoue breathing, their shoulders going up and down, was more than enough. They’d look at each other too.
“It doesn’t matter whether or not you are really here. The important thing is that I’m seeing you two now.” When I remembered what Miko and Inoue said in Inoue’s document, reality came crashing down on me.
“Maybe that’s what you want to think, Iroha, but I’m really here.” Miko’s voice called out to me, not coming from anywhere in particular. It was probably just a voice in my head. It was a conversation I constructed. That’s how I know the details. Even so, what really mattered the most was the fact that I was hearing Miko’s living voice.
Miko said, “We got this chance for a reunion, so please say something. Let me hear your voice.”
I asked him, “How long will you be here?”
“How long? How long, indeed?” Miko looked at Inoue.
Maybe my eyes had grown used to the dark water, but whatever the reason, I could now discern the subtle details in their expressions.
Inoue replied, “Forever, right?”
Miko agreed, “That’s right. Forever and ever.”
“You know, you were right, Iroha. The two of us aren’t done dying. We’ve been here like this the whole time.”
“Well, it’s not like we really want to die. We’re waiting here.”
In a joking voice, Inoue asked, “And what is it we’re waiting for?” Then he pretended to pass a mic to Miko.
“Isn’t that your area of expertise, Mr. Inoue?”
“Well, it looks like I’ll have to answer then. We are waiting ... for the Majesty-free world to become a reality.”
“A Majesty-free world? But Professor, is that really possible?”
“Please, now pay attention. The Majesties are doing their best. Therefore, we should take responsibility for how we live and not create any further trouble.”
“You don’t say! A world without Majesty.”
“Hm! You two sure got friendly,” I said, even while knowing I was creating the entire conversation in my head.
“That’s the way it goes. We’re really close.”
“And you got pretty close to Mokuren, huh, Iroha?”
That irritated me, so I answered, “You know full well why that happened.”
“Iroha, are you filming right now?”
I was overcome with a desire to throw a rock into the spring.“
“ Iroha, what you saw wasn’t good or bad. It was just a film. Miko and I aren’t going to die. We’re stuck in a not quite dead place, in a botched in-between. Once your world over there becomes a world without Majesty, then we will naturally remorphize.”
Miko cheerfully said, “We are still ‘spirited away’ in other words.” That left me with a painful heartachy yearning, and all I could say was, “oh.” I silently looked at the two of them. We had this amazing chance to communicate, but how much more retreading of the same circular path was I supposed to handle? But still. I wanted to take it all in until it hurt and everything was absorbed into part of the forest along with the wind, the temperature, the green, and the aromas. All of it. Miko’s voice, Inoue’s gaze, both of their sighs, and feeling their presence so close to me. And I wanted the two of them to feel the same way about me. Every piece of that was part of an illusion I created. The sensation probably resulted from constantly thinking too much and rehearsing scenarios. Even so, what really matters is that I experienced it. It was tangible to me.
Red-tipped clouds swept away the remains of the day. The claret sky reflected on the mirror-like water, and the sharp silhouettes of Miko and Inoue stood up.
Inoue is purposeful, never looking at me, and says, “We should be going.” He walks away and vanishes from view in the mirror pool. All I hear is his voice asking, “Is that spot okay?”
Miko sluggishly replies, “Yeah, sure,” and he is lying down in that very spot.
Inoue reappears. In a muffled voice, he says, “All right, hold your breath for a sec.” Then the coughing that never leaves my ears begins. And finally there’s just me, who doesn’t die.
When it was all over and only silence remained, the area surrounding the spring was veiled in darkness, and there was no way to distinguish the outlines of Miko and Inoue from those of the fish. Without fail, this vision is never more than its beginning.
Several days later, I received a letter from my mom out of the blue. She still can’t use her computer and, of course, never sends email, so she relies on phone calls. She did send me a p
ostcard once, but she couldn’t wait until it arrived and called me up to tell me everything she’d written before I’d had the chance to read it. Other than that, she hadn’t used the mail.
Enclosed in the envelope was a clipping from the opinion section of the April 2 morning edition of Sun Rising, this Island Country’s leading newspaper for “all the news that’s fit to print.” Under the heading “I, who might kill,” was a piece contributed by “Sara Ogawa, Free Time Worker.” I’d somehow missed this one when checking the net. I looked at the byline picture, and damned if it wasn’t Kisaragi.
“I can relate to the despair Kisaragi describes in this essay. Everything about the feeling she describes and why she had to write about it go back to February 30. If Her New Majesty had said just one thing, made just one statement at that press conference about how she abhors murder, things never would have deteriorated to this point. If you were thinking about killing another person and heard Her Majesty condemn murder, somewhere you’d start to feel a little guilty. It’s like with children who are scolded by their parents from a young age. Somewhere along the way the guilt kicks in and children learn to distinguish between right and wrong.
We talked about this by phone too, but I have really lost heart and was even on the verge of being spirited away (forgive me for the inconsiderate word choice). But it seems Her Majesty had already lost heart first. At this point in my life, I finally appreciate just how weak a person I am. I’ve lived my life by keeping it together as best I can, and I guess I simply ignored my weaknesses.
Lonely Hearts Killer Page 15
