by Shin Towada
He waited for her answer. Finally, she let the camera go and nodded. “Got it,” she said.
Should be a fun dinner.
Tsukiyama’s lips curled into a smile.
IV
At seven thirty, when the sun had set, Chiehori went to the college hospital alone. It was the day she’d promised to meet Tsukiyama.
She’d come much earlier than they’d agreed, but with reason. Common sense said it would be impossible to sneak into a hospital at midnight. The doors would be locked and security would be there. So she pretended to be visiting a patient and entered the hospital first.
Right away she headed for the women’s restroom. Once she was inside the stall, she took a pair of pajamas out of her backpack and changed into them. She stuffed the clothes she had been wearing into her bag, put her camera around her neck, and pressed the shutter button.
Now to find somewhere to stash my bag. Chiehori headed toward the hospital’s courtyard. There she found a row of azalea trees along a path. Staying out of the lights nearby, she put her backpack behind one of the trees that the light didn’t reach. She walked a few steps away to check. Her bag was nicely hidden and not visible thanks to the darkness.
“Oh.”
Just then, she heard the chimes of the hospital’s intercom system.
“This is an announcement for all visitors. Hospital visiting hours will be over shortly …”
Visiting hours ended at eight. People who had come to visit patients and had heard the announcement began to stream out of the hospital. A large number of patients stood at the door to see off their friends and family members.
Chiehori stood by the door for a while, idly watching the spectacle. She couldn’t help imagining that everyone thought she was sad because her parents had gone home, since she looked no older than a middle schooler.
“Visiting hours are now over.”
Shortly after the final announcement, the doors were locked. Chiehori slipped into the crowd of patients returning to their rooms and went into the hospital. There were over a thousand patients at this hospital. But there was also a high turnover of patients, and there was no way that staff would remember every one of them.
As she walked in she passed by doctors and nurses, but none of them, seeing her walk with such confidence, had the slightest suspicion.
“Well, here we go.”
She arrived at the general ward on the eighth floor. From here on, she was out of her element.
Unlike outpatient doctors and nurses, ward nurses would know most of the patients on the floor they were responsible for. What’s more, most of the patients in the ward were elderly. Someone with the appearance of a child wandering around the ward would stand out and be noticed without a doubt.
Chiehori went into the restroom again so as not to be spotted by the night shift nurse. Then she put the toilet seat down, had a seat, and waited for a while. The ward was still noisy, and she could hear the sound of people’s footsteps. Occasionally a patient came into the bathroom, but there were enough stalls available that nobody minded that one had been in use for a long time.
She passed the time by flicking through the pictures she had taken on her camera. There were the pictures she’d taken the day before at the hospital, as well as the ones of Tsukiyama eating someone.
“Whoa.”
Has it been close to an hour yet? Classical music began to play over the speakers on the ward. Chiehori looked up.
She checked the time. It was nine o’clock, lights out.
The song finished, and the lights on the ward went out one by one. The light in the hallway facing the bathroom Chiehori was in went out as well. There was almost no sign of anyone.
She decided to stay in the bathroom for a while longer, finally emerging half an hour later. Treading lightly, she looked into the hallway and saw no one there. Some small lamps were still on in rooms here and there, where the patients must have still been awake. She took off her shoes and carried them in her hands so as not to make a sound as she walked down the hallway.
The nurses’ station was in the middle of the floor. She took a quick peek and saw two or three nurses behind the desk. In order not to be seen she ducked down and passed by slowly. The nurses on the night shift had their hands full, and they did not notice Chiehori at all.
“Here it is.”
Finally she had made it to a private room in a corner of the floor. It was the room of the old man she had seen yesterday. She put her ear to the door to listen to what was going on and heard loud, persistent snoring. Quietly, Chiehori slid the door open.
As she did, a soft, sweet smell reached her from inside. The smell was rather strong. Is that perfume? With the lights off it was hard for her to get a feel for the room. Once inside, she proceeded with more caution than ever before.
“Oh, he’s sleeping.”
The curtains were drawn, and there was a large bed next to the window. In that bed slept the old man who had sexually harassed the nurse the day before. She waved her hand in front of his eyes. The old man did not notice.
“Hello in there …” she said quietly. The old man still did not wake up, so next she tried gently poking his cheek.
“He’s not waking up.”
He seemed to be in a very deep sleep. Maybe he’s on sleeping pills. If so he simply won’t wake up. Chiehori’s tension eased and she looked around the room anew.
“Wowww.”
Could you even call this a hospital room? The interior was spacious and equipped with not just its own toilet, but also a shower. There was also a sofa and table, as well as a refrigerator, making it nicer than many hotel rooms.
She sat on the sofa and looked at the old man. He must be as rich as Tsukiyama said if he has a private room this nice. On the shelf, as if it were a display of power, were all kinds of gorgeous flowers, boxes of candy, and fruit baskets—probably gifts.
She stood up and looked at the fruit on the shelf. It seemed to be the source of the sweet smell filling the room. She picked up a mango, probably the most expensive thing there. The fragrant smell became even more intense. Wondering why, she turned it over in her hands and found that the other side was damaged and discolored.
“Hmm …”
No matter how many visitors brought gifts to him, there was likely nobody to help the old man eat what he was brought. It didn’t look like the fruit knife sitting nearby had been used at all. Chiehori sat back down on the sofa and looked at the pictures she had taken of the old man the day before.
“Must be time soon.”
She checked her watch. It was 11:55, not long before the time she’d agreed upon with Tsukiyama. Chiehori stretched her back and lay on the sofa on her side. Moonlight was coming in through a gap in the curtain.
Suddenly, she heard footsteps in the hallway. Her eyes popped open and she listened carefully.
The footsteps went down the quiet hallway, entered a room, went back into the hallway, and entered another room repeatedly. It sounded like a nurse doing the rounds.
That means someone’s going to come in here, where I am.
She hesitated.
Chiehori looked around the room for somewhere to hide. She debated if it was acceptable to hide in the bathroom or shower. But the nurse’s footsteps kept coming closer.
“Gotta do what you gotta do.”
Taking advantage of her small body, she dove under the bed. A few seconds later, the door opened and a flashlight illuminated the room. If it is the nurse doing her rounds she’ll check on the man and then leave quickly. To her surprise, though, the nurse closed the door and moved, not toward the bed where the old man slept, but in the direction of the shelves. And stayed there.
What on earth is she doing?
As Chiehori wondered this, she heard the sound of paper rustling. Then she heard the sound of someone chewing something
.
It’s the candy.
This nurse seemingly felt free to eat her patients’ gifts. She went to the old man’s bedside as she ate his sweets. Chiehori could see the nurse’s shoes from where she was hiding under the bed. They were cute, professional shoes, and somehow feminine.
Then there was a knock at the door. I bet she’s still got crumbs all over her hands, Chiehori thought.
“Still kicking in there?”
Chiehori heard another sound, different from the one she’d heard before. It was the sound of something heavy hitting against something.
“Look, I can’t move on to the next room until I get a reaction to confirm he’s still alive.”
Her voice was cold and haughty. Chiehori heard that heavy sound again.
She’s hitting the old man, Chiehori guessed.
The old man groaned in pain. But the nurse did not stop.
“Looks like you’re still with us. Ugh. What’s the point? You’d be better off dead. Everybody thinks so too. What are you living for? It’s disgusting. Just die, please, for everyone’s sake, just die,” the nurse spat out at the old man. But Chiehori’s reaction was more to the voice than to the content. It was a voice she’d heard before.
The room echoed with the sound of her hitting the old man. Then she heard a huge crash.
“An angel in a white uniform indeed.” The voice, a man’s voice, belonged to Tsukiyama.
“W-what? Who’s there?”
Surprised by the sudden intruder, the nurse tripped over her own feet and fell. Chiehori, hiding under the bed, saw her face then.
It was the nurse from the day before.
“Oh, why are you—Tsukiyama? Wait a minute, this is the eighth floor!”
“My apologies, I seem to have broken the window. I told her I’d open the window but my little mouse seems to have been fickle.”
Tsukiyama jumped down into the room lightly. Chiehori also crawled out from under the bed.
“Oh, you’re the girl who was with him yesterday … What is all this? Why are you here?”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “So, little mouse, why don’t you tell me all about it—the way she does her work? She’s always doing this night after night, heaping abuse on patients she doesn’t like.”
Tsukiyama pointed at the nurse as if he were pointing her out to Chiehori. The nurse didn’t seem to grasp the situation very well, but she seemed to understand that this was turning into the worst possible situation for her. She began to shake with fear.
Keeping his eyes on the nurse, Tsukiyama pulled the covers off the bed, exposing the old man’s body where he lay.
“He has signs of internal hemorrhaging.”
The nurse shuddered.
“But like how he forgets what he’s done, he also forgets what others do to him. He has no idea how he gets hurt—he can’t remember. So everyone thinks it’s his fault, that he’s hurt himself somehow, and nobody takes the matter any further. What a great storyline—I mean, really splendid, bravo!”
Tsukiyama turned to the nurse and applauded. After the final clap, when his hands stopped moving, he slowly opened them and then picked up the part of the man’s body that showed internal hemorrhaging with his fingertips. Tsukiyama gave a first-class smile.
“Well, now, it’s dinnertime.”
There was a ripping sound in the room, the sound of something being torn. Between Tsukiyama’s fingers was the old man’s skin.
The nurse screamed in spasmodic fear.
“The skin of the elderly is a delicacy, I’ve been told. It has a unique smell and texture that’s very addictive to some.”
Tsukiyama slowly lowered the old man’s skin onto his tongue. To better savor the taste, he closed his eyes and brought it into his mouth as if he were licking it, rolling his tongue slowly. Then, he chewed with consideration. Once he had swallowed, he opened his eyes wide.
“The conflicting tactile sensations of the nicely dry and rough skin and its reverse side, smooth and slick with blood, paired with the unique astringency that buzzes on the tongue all come together in an incredible harmonyyyyyy!”
He opened his arms wide and twisted his body toward the heavens. His eyes were dark, dark crimson.
“N-n-n-no way …”
His red eyes—his kakugan—blazed.
“Wh … what happened? I’m hurt, I’m hurt!”
Just then the old man, lying on his side on the bed, opened his eyes. The pain had finally broken through to his mind. Tsukiyama licked his lips and turned to the old man gleefully.
“Men have a shorter average life span than women, and there are especially few men in their nineties around. Men of your vintage are very rare!”
Again, Tsukiyama pinched the man’s skin. And then he tore it off.
He screamed in agony.
“The flaky texture of the skin is just like powder! A most exquisite delicacy!”
“Stop, please stop …” the old man stuttered out.
“It’s so nice to eat because it comes off so easily! And the process really enhances the experience!”
Tsukiyama was now rapidly tearing off chunks of the man’s skin. The nurse could not move an inch. Somehow she managed to squeeze out a few words, her voice quivering.
“Tsukiyama, you’re … you’re … . Ghoul?”
He gulped down a piece of skin before answering.
“Heh, I’m a gourmet! I seek out the ultimate in eating experiences!”
In his panic the old man rolled away and fell out of the bed. He tried to crawl on his hands and knees across the floor, reaching out for the nurse.
“H-help! Help me!”
Tsukiyama had picked off the skin on his outstretched hand, and his sinewy muscles were visible.
“Help me, I’ll do whatever you want, or give you whatever you want. I’ve got money, I’ve got land … Please, I beg you …”
The old man begged in hope of salvation, tears spilling to the ground. His thin arms were like dead trees. His hand struggled into the nurse’s line of sight.
The nurse swallowed hard and gritted her teeth.
“Go away, old geezer!”
With all of her might, she kicked the old man where he lay on the floor.
At that moment, a light went off in the darkened room. And what illuminated the room was a camera flash. The shutter sound was alien and out of place in those surroundings.
Chiehori had captured the moment that the nurse had kicked the old man.
“So eccentric! You fascinate me endlessly!” Tsukiyama gave Chiehori a few words of praise as he reached a hand out to her. Then he grabbed her by the collar of her pajamas and easily lifted her up to his eye level.
“No matter how much someone’s suffering you don’t take note, you little superiority-complex case! I can’t hate you for it. What I think is, humans have been able to thrive for so long because of your tenacity in life, to put on a mask and become someone else for your own sake—it’s in that cruelty that allows you to easily betray others! But …”
Tsukiyama smiled at her.
“But now the game’s over!” he said, sticking Chiehori’s body out the window. If he let go, she would tumble headlong toward the ground. And a certain death.
The wind was blowing along the building, and the curtains flapped. A temporary silence fell over the chaotic hospital room.
“Now tell me. Do you know what I can see in your eyes?”
Hiding a gleeful smile, he spoke to her as if all was exposed, as if he could see right through her. As he spoke, he lifted one finger of the hand that had hold of her.
“Seething fear, a rising sense of despair. The world losing its color, your heart frozen …”
Chiehori’s feet flailed as if she was having trouble breathing, and her body shook slightly in reaction.
The choices she could make were limited now. She could become violent in a desperate attempt to escape, or she could start pathetically pleading for her life—those were her options.
At any rate, instead of holding herself aloof from the world still, she must now finally have inside her a rough sketch entitled “Emotion.”
Tsukiyama lifted another finger away from her.
So, what kind of person are you?
If he let go it would not be long before she was knocking on the gates of the afterlife. Tsukiyama waited for her to say something.
But she did not utter a single peep. She looked up at the sky all of a sudden, then brought her gaze back to Tsukiyama and took her camera in hand.
Then, after looking at Tsukiyama through the viewfinder, she pressed the button.
“Mmm … good shot.”
She made it clear to him that, even at the moment of her impending death, she would take pictures as always. That truth made Tsukiyama’s skin crawl.
She was not so devoid of personality that she didn’t care about sacrificing everything. To her, everything living existed in the same field. With a sense of values that went beyond the moral, she looked at all living beings equally. She saw no distinction between humans and Ghouls, dogs and cats, even between birds and fish—they were all the same to her. So she took things as they were, let her own curiosity run wild, and kept on taking the kind of photos that excited her. Her approach was instinctual and pure, nothing more.
Her mentality’s not too different from mine—with my insatiable desire to keep searching for the greatest gastronomic experiences.
“Well, isn’t this funny!”
Tsukiyama tightened his grasp on her clothing and pulled her back into the room.
“Easy does it.”
Chiehori collapsed to the floor, her own sense of equilibrium thrown off by dangling in the air. But soon she picked herself up and stood on her own two feet.
She was silent for a second. “Oh, I’m alive. Lucky,” she said.
Although she had just had a close call with death, the tone of her voice was light, rejoicing in her survival. Tsukiyama had a sudden realization.
