Ryu Murakami - Piercing

He’d used the telephone in the bathroom. But the image of him standing there with his arms crossed, holding the phone, wasn’t the important thing. The important thing was what he was saying. And when she remembered what that was, she felt goose bumps rising on the insides of her arms.

He said my name. I’m with Chiaki right now , that’s what he said, my real name. That’s what made me think he knew all about me. It must be him after all. And he probably does know all about me, too. I bet he’s been watching me from afar. He didn’t know how to approach me, so he pretended to be a client and asked the office to send me to him, and then all that stuff happened and he was scared but even so he didn’t run away but stayed and helped me. That’s why it didn’t turn him on when I masturbated for him. He doesn’t like me doing things like that. I hated it when he asked me right at the beginning if I’d take off my clothes and let him tie me up, but he didn’t mean it, he wasn’t going to do any such thing to me. If he were just another S&M freak he wouldn’t have taken me to the hospital, and he never would have waited for me out in the freezing cold.

‘Tell the truth,’ she said, smiling at him.

Kawashima’s heartbeat quickened at her sudden change in tone.

‘What?’ he said.

‘The reason you sent for me. It wasn’t really for S&M play, right?’

He was aware of his own face freezing in an oddly lopsided expression. Chiaki noticed it too and thought: He’s embarrassed. He’s so surprised I guessed his secret he can’t even speak.

Why the hell would she say something like that, Kawashima was thinking. Why, after babbling on and on about curry-flavoured cream soup, would she suddenly hint that she’s read the notes and knows all? Was she taking pleasure in watching his reaction? How do you enjoy someone’s reaction when you know it could result in your own death? Had she told the doctor everything after all? Did the doctor call the cops, and were the cops surveilling them at this very moment?

‘About the hospital. .’ His voice was trembling a little.

Chiaki thought: He’s embarrassed, so he’s trying to change the subject. What a bashful person. He’s quiet, and he doesn’t like to talk about himself or ask people questions, and he’s so shy and bashful that he couldn’t find the nerve to approach me, so he pretended to be a client.

‘Didn’t the doctor say anything?’ he asked her.

‘About what?’

‘You know, how did you get the wound, or—’

‘I told him I fell off my bicycle.’

‘Your bicycle?’

‘Uh-huh. Bicycles nowadays, they have all sorts of attachments and things sticking out all over? A thing to hold your water bottle, gear-shift levers, things like that. I mean, I’m not a cyclist or anything, but I read about this in one of those outdoors magazines? That a lot of people get cuts on their legs when they fall.’

‘So you told him you fell off a bicycle.’

‘I don’t think he believed me, but I guess he didn’t care.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘There were a lot of patients waiting, and he looked really busy, so even though he probably knew it wasn’t a bicycle accident because of the other scars, I guess he couldn’t be bothered.’

‘The other scars?’ the man said, and Chiaki showed him the four long stripes on the inside of her left wrist.

‘I have a lot more on my leg, too, but you can’t see them because of the bandage.’

I should have known, Kawashima thought. She’s a chronic suicide case. Why hadn’t he seen it sooner? The scars on the wrist were right where the skin wrinkled, and her thigh had been covered with blood — but still, he should have recognised the signs. A chronic case, with a powerful drive to destroy herself. Maybe she wants me to kill her, he thought, staring at the scars on her wrist and feeling his heartbeat quicken again. Maybe she’s just waiting for me to pull out the knife.

The girl took his hand and stood up. She signalled with her eyes and a tilt of the head that she wanted him to follow, and led him across the room to the semi-double bed in the corner. She sat him down on the edge of the bed, then sat beside him, still holding his hand. Her moist eyes looked down at the scars on her wrist, and the corners of her mouth twisted upwards in a smile.

It must have been such a shock for him, Chiaki thought. She reached over and softly stroked the man’s hair. He’s not over it yet. And besides, he’s super-shy, so I’ll have to do the inviting. I need to let him know now, before even making the soup, that it’s OK to touch me, and kiss me, and have sex with me if he wants.

She could feel her libido squirming to life somewhere deep inside.

‘Isn’t there something you want to do to me?’ she said. The question made Kawashima dizzy. ‘You don’t have to be afraid.’

So it’s true, he thought. She read the notes and decided she’d found exactly the right person to help her die. That’s why she was all over him, clinging to him like a frightened child and luring him to her room, and now that she’d got him here she was just waiting for it to happen. But suicides like to leave a record of the act. For all he knew, there could be a video camera hidden somewhere in the room, taping them. Or she might have contacted a friend, an accomplice, who was training a telephoto lens on those glass doors at this very moment. Which would explain why she hadn’t closed the curtains.

‘Does it bother you that the curtains are open?’ Chiaki said when she saw the man staring at the glass doors. ‘I can see why you might want me to close them, but I don’t really want to, OK? I like to look at all the tall buildings. See the red lights blinking on top? That’s so aeroplanes and things don’t crash into them, but don’t you think they make the buildings look like they’re alive? Like they’re breathing or something? ’

Glancing from the cluster of skyscrapers in the distance back to the girl’s face, Kawashima began to feel a little sick to his stomach. She was wearing a smile, and her liquid eyes shone with the reflection of the bedside lamp. She’ll probably die wearing that same goofy simper on her face, he thought with disgust. He could see her covered in blood, ecstatically moaning More! More! as he slashed her neck and wrists and belly. He’d be nothing more than a tool for her.

What is with this guy, Chiaki was thinking. She was doing everything she could to help him relax, and all he did was tense up even more. Just how hard did he plan to make her work? Maybe he’d never even had a woman before. Maybe if I put his hand down there, she thought, he’d be so thrilled that blood would shoot out of his nose. I need to be patient, and lead him along gently. First I’ll tell him about my sex drive. Guys always seem to like it when I do that.

‘I’m the type of person that when I lose my sex drive? Sometimes? It makes me feel really insecure,’ she said. She turned back the corner of the duvet and placed Kawashima’s hand on the sheet. ‘Feel that. You can tell what it is, right? Silk. I bought these sheets two weeks ago. Run your hand over them. It’s nothing like the silk from Korea or Taiwan that you buy in department stores, right? Even cheap silk is smooth to the touch, but this is different. It’s like milk or something, only dry. Imagine me lying here, and you looking down at me, and these sheets getting wet with, well, all sorts of stuff. Just think what that could be like. You know, I’ve never let anyone else even sleep on these sheets before.’

Listening to the girl talk and studying her face, Kawashima began to feel a very specific old fear. The fear of feeling manipulated by outside forces. He remembered the terrifying story his mother used to tell him after a beating. He couldn’t have been more than four or five the first time, barely old enough to understand the words. But she told him the story many times in the years that followed, whenever her beatings failed to produce the desired tears.