Масахико Симада - Death by Choice

But come to think of it, they weren’t planning on suicide, were they?

This was a pretty convincing rationale, but Kita still felt somehow cheated. The usual order of things was that first of all you decided to die. Next came the plan to do all you could before you killed yourself. Even if your dreams of debauchery were impossible, there was no need to despair. You still got to die. In other words, it didn’t matter if you did nothing, and simply died without any particular motive. You’d be hard put for an answer if asked why you were killing yourself, of course. The simple fact was, you were doing it because you wanted to die.

When Kita remained mute, Yashiro pushed the sashimi and potato mincemeat dishes over towards him, and said quietly, “You should eat.” Suddenly, with the aroma of deep fry oil, Kita found his old teacher’s voice echoing in his head.

“Choose your own pace of life.”

Well he was half taking her advice at least, by choosing to die at his own pace, Kita told himself. There was no need to be afraid of other people’s prying questions, no one could change his mind about dying in a week’s time. Suddenly he laughed.

“Actually,” he said, “I was planning on throwing everything to the winds even before your advice. But it’s no good simply deciding. I haven’t had any experience, so I’m not quite sure just how to go about it.”

“Ah yes, I can see that would be so. The most important question is, what do you want to do? Is it sex you’re after?”

“Among other things.”

“Murder? You must have someone you’d like to murder.”

“I don’t like murder. And I don’t have anyone I want to kill.”

“You’ve got money?”

“Not a whole lot…”

“Are you prepared to go to jail?”

“No, I don’t think that will be necessary.”

Yashiro seemed a little downcast by this news. “I see,” he murmured. He shovelled in the deep fried tofu, then went on with his mouth full, “Well anyway. You’re after a huge shot of adrenaline, hey? If you don’t have that, you could suddenly find yourself dead, after all. I really let my hair down when I was young, but I survived thanks to my nerves.”

“Oh I don’t mind if I die.”

Startled, Yashiro looked him up and down from head to toe, then took a swig of beer and, in a low, menacing voice, asked, “Why?”

“I’m planning to kill myself next Friday, thanks.”

“Thanks? Are you asking me to do something?”

“No, nothing. Well, I’ll be off now.”

“Hold on a minute. You’ve made me suddenly sad, telling me you’re going to kill yourself.”

“We’ve only just met. You’ll soon get over it.”

Kita got to his feet, but Yashiro seized his arm. He went through the motions of pondering something, then he suddenly declared in a low voice, “Let me introduce you to a great girl – Mitsuyo Kusakari, the porn star who took the world by storm five years ago. You must remember her? She’s working in my office these days. She’s the kinda girl who likes sex more than money. How about it? You’d like her to give you a good time, eh? Look at this.”

Yashiro produced a piece of paper with the contact number for the former porn star. “I’ll do the talking,” he added.

“How much?” Kita asked.

“Depends on the guy, but a token amount will do,” Yashiro replied. He was assuming Kita was talking about payment for the porn star’s services, so Kita reframed the question.

“I mean, what do I owe you for the beer?”

Yashiro shook his head, and instead of answering he launched into a bizarre business discussion.

“You know, it’s a poor show to just commit suicide. Can’t you come up with a kind of suicide that’s some benefit to others? There’s no shortage of folks like you that want to kill themselves these days, But the fact is, you just die a dog’s death as far as the world’s concerned. Every life’s got to have a certain worth to it. It’s too bad to go handing it over for nothing. Think of the people out there who’d be grateful for your life. That’s the reality. But you just need to use your head a bit and you can sell that life of yours for quite a bit. Life insurance, now there’s a profession that talks in terms of how much a life’s worth.”

“You’re telling me to take out life insurance before I die?”

“Now don’t go being petty-minded and putting me down as someone who’s after your life insurance. But hey, let me give you some money. You’ll need it so as you don’t leave any regrets behind when you die. And in return, like, how about letting me in on things?” Watching Kita carefully, Yashiro tapped his aluminium case.

“If you’re suggesting shooting a record of me going through the whole process of committing suicide, you’re wasting your time.”

Yashiro made a great show of hanging his head despondently, as if to say that Kita had caught him out there. “Too bad!” he murmured. Then he immediately perked up again, and pulled out his wallet. “Not that I’m forcing you or anything,” he remarked with a smile, as he thrust thirty thousand yen into Kita’s coat pocket.

“Hey, what’re you up to?”

Kita hated the idea of any money tied up with someone else’s schemes finding its way into his pocket even for an instant, and he shoved the notes back almost violently. Instantly, Yashiro’s face grew grave. Gazing up at him earnestly from under his brows, he whispered in a surprisingly gentle voice, “You must accept people’s goodwill with gratitude.”

“Not if it’s a deposit or advance I won’t. I don’t intend to let myself become a spectacle.”

“You’ve got me wrong. There’s no need to feel any obligation just because you’ve accepted thirty thousand yen, you know. This is my funeral offering, see. It’s a bit odd to be giving it to you before you die, I’ll admit, but you could get yourself something good to eat with it.”

Kita simply wasn’t up to parrying this with some smart joke, so he decided to accept the money meekly. He bowed his head deeply in thanks, and attempted to leave, but Yashiro only increased his urgent attempts to detain this prospective suicide. “Just one more minute,” he said, opening his case. He produced a Polaroid camera, and quickly caught a snap of Kita’s bewildered face. Then he called over the man behind the counter to take a photo of both of them to remember the occasion by. He kept back the first photograph of Kita, and handed him the other together with the camera. “You’ll see a different world if you look through the viewfinder,” he said. “Sorry to burden you, but do take it.”

“Thank you for everything. May I go now?” said Kita.

Yashiro gave him a parting wave. “Be seeing you,” he smirked, with the apparent implication that he planned to meet Kita again soon.

He was the sort of guy that Kita suspected had had to do with prospective suicides before. He seemed to know how to deal with them, to have some special knowhow. The funeral money, the gift…did he mean for Kita to use this camera to record his final week? He’d taken the funeral money, so maybe he had to return the favour somehow. But why should someone who’s planning to die have to distract himself with this sort of thing? This Heita Yashiro fellow was no ordinary guy. Kita realized he’d been putty in the man’s hands ever since the moment the guy had tried to steal a taxi on him. Everything Yashiro said and did had a peculiar persuasive power to it – he couldn’t resist him, even though he was aware there was something odd going on. He was insolent, but at the same time oddly polite. He came on strong with the moralizing sermons and proverbs, but on the other hand he made no attempt to talk Kita out of suicide. Maybe he’d just been part of the evening’s entertainment for Yashiro, a tasty morsel to snack on over a beer? He’d believed Tokyo was full of nothing but simple folks, but no sooner did he make the decision to kill himself than up had popped this bizarre fellow. Anyway, Kita told himself as he set off down the hill, let’s do something positive and get him out of my mind.