Fuminori Nakamura - Evil and the Mask

“Fumihiro … he’s happy now,” I managed to say finally.

The windshield reflected my face back at me, the face of a killer, the face of a man who had lost everything.

“He’s got a regular job at a company, he’s married, he’s happy. Working hard, and I heard he bought a house with a view of the ocean.”

I still didn’t look around.

“In the evenings he and his wife go for walks along the beach, hand in hand. She’s quite cute, though not as pretty as you.”

I knew I was just babbling.

“They’ve got one child, and he’s doing his best not to pass his own depression on to his kid. When he argues with his wife, he’s always quick to apologize. She often plays tricks on him, then laughs at his confusion. Pushes her beautiful eyes close to his and smiles mischievously. It’s just an ordinary life, but for him …”

My eyes filled with tears and I could hardly carry on.

“But he says that he was really happy with you. Sure, it ended, but throughout his childhood he was able to keep on living because you were there, even with a father like that, even in that gloomy house. There were times when he thought about killing himself, but he managed to talk himself out of it thanks to the days he’d shared with you, because he knew you were out there somewhere. Because of you he was able to see a little good in this world. He could keep on going. His heart was filled with memories, and he never wanted to lose them. Those happy days really happened, and he wanted to keep them inside him forever. That’s why—”

I couldn’t prevent the tremor in my voice.

“That’s why you must be happy.”

The sun was slowly sinking. I couldn’t turn around, but I could see Kaori in the mirror. I noticed for the first time that she was crying.

“This is so sudden. It’s a bit of a shock.”

Her words came out haltingly.

“When I heard he’d disappeared I was really upset, and I didn’t know what to do. So Fumihiro is …”

The tears ran down her cheeks, but she didn’t take out a handkerchief. I stayed motionless, my mind in turmoil.

“I thought that if I met him I’d get all messed up again and we’d both suffer, so I couldn’t contact him.”

Her words were like a hammer blow. It had never occurred to me that I lived inside Kaori in the same way that she lived in me.

“But still, just living is really hard, and not many good things have happened to me. But the time I spent with Fumihiro, that’s been my salvation.”

Vivid memories passed before my eyes, of us walking home together hand in hand as if we were checking the other was still there, of spending hours in my bed, giggling the whole time.

“I didn’t know how he felt about me, but whenever I was having a hard time, I prayed that he was happy. If he was still alive somewhere, I could keep on living too. I could find some good in the world.”

She faltered.

“Don’t you think that’s true? Because even people like us, we were able to be that happy, just for a short time. Because we were able to prove that such happiness exists. I always tell myself that no matter how difficult things are now, you never know what will happen in the future. And because I don’t know, I’ve kept on living. That’s how I’ve survived, because things like that can really happen. I’m so happy that Fumihiro is …”

Her arms and shoulders were trembling.

“Please tell him that I’m doing well too. And please tell him thanks.”

I was shaken to the core. A warmth spread through my body, a warmth that I’d thought I would never experience again. I wiped my eyes several times with my right hand. Time flowed by and the sun sank even lower. Finally I roused myself, put the car in gear and drove off.

“For today, we’ll … I’m sorry for bringing this up out of the blue. Please don’t tell anyone. I’ll take you home. You’re staying with Azumi at the moment, aren’t you?”

I tried to focus on driving. Azusa’s apartment was close. I drove slowly down the narrow street, turning cautiously at the corners, past the shops and houses.

“Um,” said Kaori softly, after a long silence.

She was watching me with troubled eyes, brushing away tears, as if trying to make up her mind. I grunted in reply, keeping my eyes on the road, feeling a sense of dread. We turned at an intersection and entered a residential area.

“Are you … are you really happy?” Her voice was low but I could hear her clearly.

“Yes.”

I don’t know how I managed to get the words out. My voice was still shaking.

“I’m married, so I probably shouldn’t say this, but you really are beautiful, you’re wonderful.”

I could see Konishi’s condo. The white building gradually grew nearer, and I stopped the car out front. I hardly knew if I was still crying or not, but I wanted to see Kaori one last time. Whether I was Fumihiro or Shintani, that no longer seemed important. I twisted around in my seat, taking in her eyes and lips, her thin neck and shoulders. She was as lovely as ever, so lovely that I wanted to find some good in the world, no matter what happened to me.

“I love you.”

This was the second time I had made that confession to her.

“So it’s probably better if we don’t see each other again. Since I’m married.”

I turned to the front again and unlocked the doors. She hesitated, but then started to move. I kept my eyes averted, and finally I heard her getting out. She walked around and stood by the driver’s side door, peering at me through the glass, her figure lit by the setting sun. Dazzled, I wound down the window.

“Today,” she started, “I, um …”

Her whole body was bathed with an orange light.

“I’m still a bit confused, but …”

I handed her a paper bag.

“Sorry, I forgot to give you this. It’s a small present. A white hair-tie.”

Kaori smiled weakly, her eyes red.

“Please use it from time to time, at the end of the day.”

I took a breath. Tears welled in my eyes again.

“I’m really glad I met you.”

I drove slowly away. I didn’t know if she was watching me leave, but I knew that once I turned the corner it would be over. I searched for a place where I could pull myself together. After a few minutes I spotted a park. I stopped the car and got out, gently distancing myself from the lingering scent of her perfume. In a haze of tears I staggered to a bench and collapsed onto it. It seemed to embrace my crumbling body and spirit.

I sat there and wept. Perhaps from time to time I cried out. When I was finally able to stand, it was already quite dark.

THE RAIN THAT had started abruptly several days before had stopped, giving us a brief respite. A distant sun cast rays through gaps in the low, heavy clouds. Since morning, rain that couldn’t make up its mind to become snow had formed countless puddles on the pavement, throwing random reflections of the strengthening sunshine. I’d stepped in several of these by accident and my leather shoes were soaked. The woman who doubled as receptionist met me as before, smiling and without make-up. When she ushered me into the reception room the doctor stood, looking at my face.

I sat on the white sofa and he pushed an ashtray towards me. As always, it didn’t feel like a hospital. The surgeon was dressed in ordinary clothes, and his rigid smile was hardly a smile at all. The potted plants had grown a bit since last time, and the room seemed to be buried in soft foliage.

“I’ve decided to leave Japan for a while,” I said.