“Oh, a firefly,” someone said, pointing, and when I looked, sure enough, there was a little firefly winking cutely at us from the shade of some bamboo leaves dangling over the water.
A lantern hung in the grove as if inviting us in. Deeper inside was a sooty brick chimney and a spiral staircase leading down.
When we descended, we found ourselves in a small room with a traditional earthen floor, the kind born from a harmony of soil, lime, and bittern. Steam came pouring out as soon as we opened the clouded glass sliding door. There was an attendant’s booth that gave off the feeling of a watchtower, and wooden lockers with brass keys took up the wall space. Baskets for clothes were lined up on top of the drainboards over the floor.
“There’s a bath in the back here,” explained Mr. Higuchi. “The banquet hall is downstairs.”
When we moved in a herd down another spiral staircase, we came out into a long room.
It had thick red carpeting as well as a scattering of round tables and sofas that gleamed expensively. The tables were already set with refreshments and drinking vessels.
In the back of the room, a grandfather clock stood swinging its silver pendulum, and next to it, a phonograph played some scratchy tunes.
Just as I glanced past a celadon vase large enough for me to fit in, I noticed a statue of a mythical raccoon dog holding a gourd and a globe so big, it could be used for the giant ball–rolling event on field day.
Masks of the contorted face of a female demon, a fox, and a crow-faced tengu goblin, along with a brocade woodblock print of koi fish climbing a waterfall and an oil painting of a creepy shrimp, were crowded willy-nilly along the wood-plank walls.
Directly beneath the chandelier illuminating that odd collection was a happy-looking round-faced old man who was snug in a chair as soft as a marshmallow. He smiled as he smoked his hookah, making bubbling sounds.
“Everyone, good day to you.” He removed his lips from the pipe and spoke in a cheerful tone. “The one who wants to challenge me is that young lady?”
The party was now beginning, combining a wedding reception, the free-booze crew, a big send-off, and a sixtieth birthday celebration. It was arranged that I would sit face-to-face with Mr. Rihaku, across from each other’s drinking cups.
A big silver bottle and two silver cups were on the round table.
The contest was exceedingly simple. Mr. Rihaku and I would each drink a cup, and to prove it was empty, we would tip it upside down before the other’s eyes. Then the next cup would be poured. Once one of us announced we couldn’t drink anymore, or got too drunk to hold their cup, or Dr. Uchida judged one of us to be in danger, the contest would be decided.
The faux electric brandy poured into our cups was clear as pure water but also had a faintly orange tint to it. I picked up my cup and gently inhaled the scent. At that moment, I hallucinated a huge flower blooming before my eyes.
The president, Mr. Todou, and Mr. Higuchi bunched up next to me.
“She’ll drink while wagering all your debts, is that right? But if she loses, I’ll double what you owe. There’ll be no mercy from me.”
The three men nodded heavily in response to Mr. Rihaku’s terms.
Just then, the grandfather clock in the back of the room announced it was three in the morning.
“Very well, please begin,” said Dr. Uchida, ordered to be the designated witness.
How should I describe the first time I tasted faux electric brandy? It wasn’t sweet or dry. It wasn’t, as I imagined, a drink that zapped your tongue. Perhaps I should say it was a tasteless drink with a robust fragrance. I’d thought smell and taste were the same at their root, but that wasn’t the case for this drink. Every sip I took made a flower bloom and, without leaving behind any unnecessary flavor, slipped down into my stomach, where it became a tiny mote of warmth. It was honestly so charming, as if my insides were turning into a field of flowers. As I drank, I became happy from the pit of my stomach out. I think that was why, even though we were dueling, Mr. Rihaku and I smiled at each other.
Ahhh, this is great. This is so great. I wish I could drink like this forever.
That was how I enjoyed partaking in the faux electric brandy. Before long, the noises of the people around us faded into the background, and I felt, mysteriously, as if it were only Mr. Rihaku and I drinking together in a quiet room. If you’ll forgive some hyperbole, the flavor of faux electric brandy warmed my entire life from the bottom up.
One cup, two cups, three cups.
Absorbed in drinking to the point that I forgot about time’s passing, I started to suddenly feel safe and sound, as if Mr. Rihaku were my grandfather, even though we hadn’t been talking at all. But it felt as if he was chatting with me without words.
“Living itself is enough.”
I had the feeling he said that to me.
“All I need is to drink—one cup, then another, and then another.”
“Are you happy, Mr. Rihaku?”
“Of course.”
“I’m very glad to hear that.”
He smiled contentedly and whispered, “The night is short—walk on, girl.”
As I poured more faux electric brandy into my stomach, I was having the time of my life. It was delicious. I could drink it forever.
And though I wished this drinking contest would never end, the next thing I knew, Mr. Rihaku had stopped moving. His cup was on the table, his wrinkled palm placed over the top of it.
“I can’t drink anymore,” he said. “Hey, you, let’s leave it at that.”
Suddenly, the buzz of reality surrounding me returned.
The party closed in tight around Mr. Rihaku and me. The president clapped me on the shoulder; Mr. Higuchi simply smiled with his hand on his chest. And the most critical person of them all, Mr. Todou, sat on the carpet with a face like crumpled straw paper.
Even after the drinking contest, the strange party continued. Faux electric brandy was served, and everyone smelled wonderful. The amicable yet somewhat bashful atmosphere mellowed out the whole room. Mr. Todou and the president sat on a sofa smoking burbling hookahs, while the other men in red ties and Kosaka congratulated the bride and groom.
A crowd of people gathered in front of the pictures and other weird items hanging on the wall to debate how much they were worth. Some people went upstairs to take a bath.
Ms. Hanuki had thrown herself on a sofa and was drinking coffee with Mr. Rihaku. Mr. Higuchi spun the huge globe and grabbed the nearest person to deliver a loud speech.
“Why did we all meet up tonight in the first place?” I heard someone ask.
It was interesting to have unsteady feet for the first time in my life, and I wandered the banquet hall doing my signature bipedal robot dance until my buzzed mind thought it would be fun to go up to the roof. I must have been wobbling precariously on the spiral staircase, because Mr. Todou raced over and announced he’d go with me. “Are you going up to the roof to catch fireflies?” he asked.
We climbed the stairs and ended up next to the old pond. As we were hunting for fireflies in the bamboo, an icy wind blew, rippling the surface of the pond. The faux electric brandy’s stupor had been wrapped around my head but hopped aboard that chilly gust and scattered into the night.
“I’ve never had a night as weird as this one,” said Mr. Todou.
“Yes, you really can’t tell what will happen next.”
“If only my koi would come back, too— Nah, I know that’s asking too much.” But he called each of his beloved fish by name. “Yuuko! Jirokichi! Teijiro!”
That’s when it happened.
As if responding to his plea, the water in the pond made a huge splash.
It seemed as though something had fallen in. We backed away.
“Is it a meteorite?” he asked.
With no regard for us, we watched in shock as meteorite-esque things fell one after the other, sending the pond water flying. From beyond the night sky, objects came raining down, gleaming red, white, blac
k, gold. Their colors were momentarily caught in the lamplight and reflected on the surface of the pond, before splashing water everywhere.
Mr. Todou and I gaped up at the sky. Faint clouds that reminded me of pulled cotton floated in the deep blue. Scattered among them were a handful of gold specks. At first, they seemed like a flock of birds flying away, but before I could take another breath, I realized they were coming toward us.
It was a flock of koi fish.
The group of flip-flapping koi fish glimmered like gold in the city lights. I felt as if I could see every individual fin and scale.
The moment Mr. Todou wrapped around me to shield my body, the koi fish fell all at once into the pond. The bamboo grass surrounding the pond rustled as if it were caught in a squall. The spray of water made the whole area hazy. The whole time the fish were raining down, Mr. Rihaku’s triple-decker train rocked ker-clack, ker-clack as if it were running down train tracks.
Once the mist settled, Mr. Todou peered into the pond.
“Woo-haa! Is this even possible?! It can’t be!” He shook his fist at the sky as if he was angry. “Don’t screw with me!”
“What is it?”
“These are my koi. It just rained my koi.”
Then he took me in his arms and, of all things, tried to kiss me.
How shameless.
I thought I should be faithful to the words of my elder sister I respect so much.
Which was why I threw a friendly punch full of love and knocked Mr. Todou into the pond.
It’s me, the guy who doesn’t know when to give up.
I followed her onto Rihaku’s train, but I couldn’t get anywhere near her during that frightful one-on-one showdown, and in the meanwhile, I ran into that nasty-drunk bookseller, who immediately forced me to drink. While I was embroiled in that unpleasant drunkenness, I realized that Rihaku was the one who stole my pants and that Higuchi was wearing them, but I didn’t have the energy to confront either of them about it.
When she won the contest, I thought to go say hello, but I felt so incredibly nauseated that I escaped upstairs to the roof. Hiding in the shade of the bamboo trees, I tried to throw up everything that was making my chest tight while watching the fireflies by the pond.
That was when the girl and Todou came up the stairs and began their search for those same fireflies on the opposite side of the pond.
He was talking her ear off about how much he had loved his koi fish that had flown off and been scattered to the winds, but who would believe that a tornado could do that? The girl’s a saint, so she listened with tears in her eyes, but it would be best if he didn’t get any ideas because of it.
She was right there in front of me. If I didn’t say something to her then, I wouldn’t have another chance. I rinsed out my mouth with pond water and made a move toward the girl I longed for.
I stumbled out of the grove and looked up at the night sky just as I inhaled.
By the time I noticed something strange was coming toward us, it was too late. Whatever it was, it sparkled a beautiful color in the lamplight as if dusted with gold, and the next moment, I received a heavy blow to the head, flipping me over backward.
The vertigo made it hard to tell up from down, but nevertheless, I managed to groan, “This side up” as I crawled back into the bamboo. Someone should praise me.
Eventually, the glittering pack of koi fish rained into the pond, splashing water everywhere. Poor me. I got soaking wet, but still I refused to give up.
When Todou shouted “It just rained my koi” and threw his arms around her, not only was I livid, but I trembled with a sense of mission.
At the end of this long, futile journey here—finally, I found my chance. If I saved her from Todou’s clutches, emphasizing my usefulness, I would get to talk with her on familiar terms. This was a once-in-a-million-years chance. All the good deeds I had no memory of committing must have added up to something.
I clenched my fist, but that iron ball was soon worse than useless—because she calmly knocked Todou into the pond with her own.
Realizing the gods were plotting for me to appear inept, I lay on my back next to the pond and prepared to spit at the heavens when suddenly she was peering into my face. Her short, neatly trimmed black hair hung down just a little, shining in the lamplight. Maybe in part due to the faux electric brandy, her beautiful eyes were gleaming moistly as she stared at me.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
I groaned in the affirmative.
“There’s a doctor downstairs—I’ll call him. Don’t overexert yourself.”
I noticed she was making her fist in a peculiar way.
When I tried it out for myself, her face softened into a smile. It was a smile bestowed upon me by the gods of the night and faux electric brandy. It contained truth, goodness, and beauty.
“This is the friendly punch.”
The last thing I saw before I blacked out drunk was her little fist like a soft rice cake. Unable to secure the lead role and having to make do as a pebble by the wayside, my record of distress ends here. I swallow back my tears as I say this: Farewell, wise readers.
The fellow was a member of the same club, though a few years my senior, and took a koi fish right to the head, knocking him down. He was carried to Mr. Rihaku’s study, where Dr. Uchida examined him.
The fact that we were in the same club and yet I didn’t know his name struck me as a moral failing on my part. I didn’t get much time to talk to him, but I thought to myself that I’d like to chat the next time I saw him, learn his name, and share memories of this spirited night.
After making sure he would be all right, I crept off the train and stood on the chilly stone pavement of Ponto-cho. The sky was still dark, but I could faintly sense dawn. A maiden’s modesty demands she be in bed before sunrise.
Mr. Rihaku’s triple-decker train blocked the street, shining like a magic box.
The others must have been enjoying the gleeful end of the party. Mr. Todou was surely up on the roof surrounded by his beloved koi, smiling.
Suddenly, I noticed Mr. Rihaku watching me from a window on the second floor of his train. When I bowed, he raised his silver cup in cheers.
As if that were a signal, the triple-decker train silently began to move.
I watched the bright lights until they disappeared to the south.
Then the area was dark, and I was all alone.
I set off walking down Ponto-cho’s dimly lit stone pavement.
At the time, I couldn’t remember why I’d embarked on such a voyage into the night. That’s pretty funteresting in and of itself, and I learned so many things. Or maybe I just felt as if I’d learned things. But none of that matters. In any case, I would continue on like a little chickpea and look toward living a beautiful, harmonious life. I gazed proudly up at the sky and remembered something Mr. Rihaku had said while we were drinking together. It made me feel so cheerful, I felt I wanted to recite it like a spell to protect me.
I murmured it to myself.
The night is short—walk on, girl.
Used bookfairs aren’t good for me.
If I wander around one for too long, I’m overcome with migraines, start to feel pessimistic, become more masochistic, am drained of all semblance of motivation, and eventually, end up with autotoxemia. Even if I manage to return to my room, I’ll have dreams of a radiant beauty strapping me down to an operating table and forcing me to eat slice after slice of Heibonsha’s World Encyclopedia.
So during the used bookfair season, I inevitably grow melancholy. And this year, I swore I wouldn’t visit any of them.
But at the last minute, there ended up being a reason I just had to attend.
She wanted to go.
She’s a younger member of the club I’m in at my university, and I am her secret admirer.
The day before the fair, that black-haired maiden had said, “Tomorrow I’m going to the used bookfair.” I got that information from a reliable source. The mom
ent I heard it, a plan—more like a divine revelation—popped into my head.
She finds a book at the fair and eagerly reaches out her hand. But wait! Another hand is reaching out at the same time. When she looks up, it’s me standing there. I don’t hesitate to surrender the book to her like a gentleman. She politely thanks me. Without missing a beat, I reply with a leisurely smile, “Say, would you like to go to that stall over there and enjoy a nice, cold bottle of soda?”
Listening to the cicadas, we treat ourselves to a Ramune break. As we discuss our hauls at the bookfair, trust will blossom between us before we know it. With my natural-born wit, the rest is exceedingly simple. All must naturally go as I envision. Ahead lies a future with the black-haired maiden by my side.
That’s a plan without a single blemish, if I do say so myself, and everything was flowing so naturally—it was magnificent. Once it was realized, we would surely have conversations that go, When you really think about it, it all started when we reached for that book.
I had no way to stop my runaway romance engine, and eventually, I was so embarrassed, I got a nosebleed.
Know shame and perish.
But I no longer lent an ear to the inner voice of reason.
Why? Because at present-day university, right at the threshold of absolute depravity, I’d been ashamed countless times, but even if I employed good manners, it never paid off.
It was on the approach to Shimogamo Shrine in Kyoto.
The wide road goes through Tadasu no Mori, where elderly camphor trees and hackberries stand together. It was right around the time of Obon break, so the cicadas were singing without rest.
There was a bizarre vibe in the air, west of the road leading to the shrine on the riding grounds used for mounted archery. Though there seemed to be a crowd, it wasn’t very rowdy. People whispered, perhaps out of consideration for their surroundings—it was just like a gathering of mythical creatures.
The Night Is Short, Walk on Girl Page 5
