Pathway to Japanese Literature

I

April 27, Shōwa ×, 8:30 PM...

In the upper berth of the second-class sleeper car on the first/second-class limited express Fuji departing from Shimonoseki, I tightly fastened the curtain and lit the bedside lamp while still wearing nothing but a shirt and fundoshi. After languidly stretching my limbs, I took out the dagger-shaped short sword from the inner pocket of the navy serge suit hung by the bedside and, while lying on my back, attempted to draw it from its sheath. From tip to habaki collar—eight sun and eight bu... Not a single flaw marred its steel. Along its grand curve reminiscent of Masamune’s legendary Milky Way blade pattern, flame-like temper lines cascaded from the tip like dripping water... At its core was engraved: "Kenmu 5th Year." "...forged in Hirado, Hizen Province by Morihiro"—this ancestral treasure sword. When I considered how soon this blade would drink the blood of many through my hand... an icy shiver crept relentlessly through my body.

I snugly sheathed the dagger and thrust it into the bedside.

When I turned off the light and quietly closed my eyes, the events since this morning rose vividly before my eyes. This morning... On April 27 around 11:00 AM—amidst the quiet sound of rain—the door to Room 11 in the Otera Internal Medicine Ward of Q University Medical Department opened quietly, and my half-brother Tomosei Tomojirō entered. He stood rigidly before my bed with a corpse-like pallor, seemingly unable to meet my gaze directly, and let his head droop heavily. Before long, tears began dripping from beneath his long, flowing hair.

...What a strange fellow. I raised half my body from the berth. He was my younger brother—slender and willowy, the polar opposite of me. For a long time he had relied on my salary, and having recently become a medical graduate awarded a silver watch, he now worked in the X-ray room at Q University; yet out of consideration for his only blood-related brother—me—living in poverty, he still hadn’t been able to afford a proper suit and continued to work in his brass-buttoned student uniform—this pure-hearted younger brother… A handsome youth who could have stepped out of a romance novel’s illustration, yet this damnably earnest brother who wouldn’t even glance at a café… was now hanging his head before me and sniveling as if he’d done something wrong—it was absurd.

I was the polar opposite of my younger brother since childhood—sturdy in build and rather dull-witted. Though holding a literature degree from Waseda University, I had somehow obtained a fifth-dan judo license and scraped by as a judo instructor at Q University—a rough-and-tumble type like me—but had recently been admitted to this Q University-affiliated hospital room under suspicion of a mild gastric ulcer. However, that gastric ulcer soon healed completely and the bleeding stopped, so as a precaution—to check whether this ulcer had turned cancerous—I underwent an X-ray examination where Dr. Naito, head of radiology, declared "No abnormalities," allowing me to return relieved and flop onto my hospital bed. At that very moment, my younger brother—who'd suddenly returned from the X-ray room—stood rigidly by my bedside and began sniveling, leaving me no choice but to be taken aback.

“What on earth’s happened…” “Brother… I… I’ll speak the truth.”

My younger brother, who had cried out in a voice brimming with passion, suddenly clung to my neck. He pressed his cheek against my chest and spoke between hitching sobs. “Wh...what? What did you do?” “Brother’s life…won’t last more than two weeks now!” “Wh...what? That’s all…Ahahahaha…” In an instant, I forced out a boisterous laugh. A prickling wave of gooseflesh erupted across my flank as I violently swallowed down the scalding surge of anguish rising through my chest.

“Hmm.” “So it was stomach cancer after all?” My younger brother, still clinging to my shoulder, looked up at me with his pale face twitching. “It’s… even more… even more terrifying.” “Brother has a large aortic aneurysm in his heart.” “Hmm.” “An aortic aneurysm…” I knew how terrifying an aortic aneurysm could be. In the blood of those who boast about never catching syphilis or whatnot, latent syphilitic bacteria begin their mischief much later. When they lodge at the aorta’s root near the heart’s exit, blood vessels there gradually soften over two or three years. Without notice, those vessels—unable to withstand cardiac pressure—start swelling like rubber balloons bit by bit. As they grow larger, scraping ribs’ inner walls to trigger coughing fits and compressing vocal nerves to hoarsen voices—even then, some remain oblivious. Doctors dismiss it as respiratory illness until the bulge thins paper-like and bursts with a pop. Outward rupture bloodies chests; inward rupture brings instant peritonitis. Worse yet—if vessels feeding blood to the head rupture—the brain fails faster than any stroke. This aortic aneurysm terrifies beyond measure. Early detection grants two years; late discovery—one fortnight at most per records. Rare yet merciless—once found, no doctor can intervene.

“Brother’s… is… remarkably large.” “Dr. Naito said he’d never seen one this big—Brother’s is extraordinarily large.” My younger brother offered a timid smile, his face drained of color. Tears that had pooled in his eyes now streamed down both cheeks. I felt feverishly disoriented. As if my soul had detached from my body, I laughed through my words. “Ahahaha! My apologies. Sorry for troubling you.” “This aneurysm’s straight from Manchuria.” “Must’ve caught it from some Ruskie woman when I guarded General Ōhara in Harbin.” “Ahaha! My own damn fault… But… Well played.”

My younger brother seemed unable to stand any longer. He wrapped both hands even more tightly around my neck and began to cry with frantic, disoriented sobs. “You idiot.” “What kind of man cries?” “Disgraceful.”

I took out a white envelope containing a bundle of bills from under the bed's pillow. To be thorough, I counted them and found seventy 10-yen bills. From these, I counted out forty bills and wrapped them in newspaper.

“Listen.” “Here’s four hundred yen.” “This is money we saved up for when we got sick.” “What’s left after my funeral goes to you.” “Talk to Professor Ōtera and get yourself apprenticed at some hospital.” “…Well?… You got that?”

My younger brother did not take the bundle of bills I had pressed on him and let out a loud cry.

“I don’t want to! I don’t want to!” “Brother.” “I don’t want you to die!…Live…Please live…Please live…”

I finally lost my composure. I clenched my molars against the rising tears. I quietly pulled my younger brother’s arms away and sat back down on the sickbed. “You idiot… Do you think I’d commit suicide or something?” “You idiot… Whether it’s a week or an hour—I’ll cherish every last second of my remaining life.” “Before that, go to Dr. Ōtera’s place and thank him.” “Tell him that thanks to him, we found out it’s not cancer and your elder brother is relieved… Go right away.”

“Yes…”

My younger brother nodded obediently. He skillfully poured water from the medicine pot onto the towel hung by the bedside and began scrubbing his tear-stained face vigorously. “And remember—stay calm no matter what happens, got it? Whatever comes up, don’t make a scene.” “Yes…”

My younger brother nodded within the steaming towel.

As soon as my younger brother left, I hurriedly took off my nightclothes and changed into a suit worn out from years of use. I packed my personal belongings into a basket. I bundled the bedding and wrapped it in a large wrapping cloth. I pinned a business card onto the wrapping cloth and wrote in small letters with a fountain pen. "I will go into hiding. Because I want to do one last job before I die. No matter what happens, don’t make a fuss. Don’t interfere with the work I’m risking my life for."

After leaving a confectionery box labeled “Hospital Discharge Gratitude” at Professor Ōtera’s home and dropping my resignation letter addressed to the dean into a postbox in front of Hakata Station, I boarded an upbound express train that arrived shortly thereafter, carrying a single cloth-wrapped bundle. Fortunately, I didn’t encounter a single acquaintance, so I sighed in relief. Even my sensitive younger brother seemed unable to discern my true final objective. My final objective was an act of revenge.

I had one uncle by marriage. If I were to mention his name, some might recognize it. He was Subata Kuroroku - a director of the Japan-India Association. I knew full well this uncle currently worked as a magician; after thoroughly deceiving gentlemen from both government and public circles, he'd now taken up with that poisonous woman Ms. Ungetsusai Gyokuto - who'd vanished from sight - and was running some elaborate human trafficking operation somewhere in Ginza. Moreover, through my time working as a yakuza bodyguard in Tokyo, I'd clearly discerned he'd amassed vast wealth, wielded immense covert influence over Indian trade, and seemed to be attempting significant underhanded maneuvers within domestic governance and foreign diplomacy during crises.

Rumor had it that through such exotic brothel trades, Uncle was corrupting every last one of the Indian patriots seeking asylum in Japan and spies infiltrating from various countries.

The facts I knew were not limited to that. As for that uncle of such standing—Subata Kuroroku—the fact that his wealth had been obtained by killing my father was something I had perceived full well.

My father had discovered several remarkable gold mines along the banks of the Songhua River while traversing Manchuria and Siberia as a Japanese military scout since the time of the Russo-Japanese War. However, my composed father had kept this information from everyone; after the Russo-Japanese War, when my biological mother passed away from mounting hardships, he took as his second wife Subata Yumiko—a young, beautiful widow who was the biological elder sister of his close friend Subata Kuroroku.

That she had struck even my childish heart as beautiful suggested she must have been a woman of considerable renown for her looks. The relatives viewed this woman with inexplicable suspicion, going so far as to admonish me—still a child—with warnings like, “Nothing good ever comes from marrying a beautiful wife when you’re already advanced in years.” Yet my stepmother Yumiko doted on me beyond measure, devoting herself more than my birth mother ever had. Rather than heed those relatives, I grew resentful of them and clung to her instead. Yet, as if to show how eerily accurate the rumors of the world can be, the relatives’ slanderous words had mysteriously taken on the nature of a prophetic curse. In short, it was all because our young mother had been far too beautiful.

Not long after this stepmother Yumiko gave birth to my current younger brother Tomojirō, my father—out of excessive love for his young wife—casually disclosed the matter of the gold mine. He declared he would soon retire from his work as a military scout and go pan for gold dust there, marking a red symbol on a map of Manchuria to show her. This became the very root of all misfortune. Our foolish mother Yumiko had apparently relayed this information to our uncle, who was then in service to a British merchant in Harbin. Uncle immediately returned home, wrested the map from Mother’s hands, then rushed back to Harbin to undoubtedly inform the GPU that my father was a military scout.

The fact was reported that my father, who had soon made preparations for gold dust mining and departed for Manchuria, was abducted by Russians on the outskirts of Harbin; en route to Manchouli, he was shot dead inside a train and his body discarded beneath an iron bridge. Moreover, upon hearing this news, Mother Yumiko miscarried, went mad, and ultimately starved to death without eating anything. My shrewd Uncle had taken out a ten-thousand-yen life insurance policy on his sister Yumiko, so he appropriated that money for himself as well. And after doling out a mere thousand yen to us brothers for funeral expenses, he sold off the placer mining rights to the Chinese and went off to India.

When I pieced together the facts my mother Yumiko had blurted out during her madness, not only did all of Uncle’s heinous deeds appear to be true—given that Uncle had long been a hidden supporter of Ms. Ungetsusai Gyokuto, I could suspect this cruel and malicious scheme to be their collaborative work—but at that time, my brother was still young, and since I alone had noticed anything, not a single piece of evidence remained. That was why I had resolved not to reveal it to my younger brother until today—no, until my death.

However, if my life had only two weeks left, things changed somewhat. It may sound like cowardly talk, but this adventure of settling my uncle’s past crimes and making my younger brother an overnight millionaire was no longer necessarily an adventure. I must have fallen asleep without realizing it. The next day—perhaps because I hadn’t ridden a train in so long—I was ravenously hungry. Bracing myself for the waiters’ mockery after entering the dining car for the third time, I soon saw Mt. Fuji appear on my left. Likely my final glimpse of Fuji in this lifetime...

The peak of Fuji emerges from the land of my thoughts,

lofty and pure as my heart envisions Such a waka poem slipped from my lips. Whether I had memorized someone else’s poem or whether I composed it for the first time—I couldn’t tell. It flowed out from my mind so effortlessly. When I thought that a death poem might take shape in such a manner, my chest began pounding uncontrollably. A bizarre association arose—something like wondering whether Mount Fuji was Japan’s aortic aneurysm…—but this notion simply refused to form itself into verse.

After getting off at Tokyo Station, I dropped off my cloth-wrapped bundle and basket at a small inn called Happōkan in Tsukiji and immediately headed to a barber shop. I slickly parted my hair down the middle, trimmed my sideburns short, and left a tiny bit of stubble unshaven under my nose—completely altering my appearance. Then, unable to wait for evening to fall, I headed out to Ginza and began combing through the rows of cafés and bars from the Shinbashi side, one after another. To track down my uncle—effectively estranged—there was no way but this… If they caught wind of me making inquiries at the Japan-India Association, checking ward offices, or pulling strings through old right-leaning contacts, I’d be done for. Because I thought that someone who was a monster far beyond a mere fox that would list its real name in the phone book couldn’t be caught off guard.

I had to meet my uncle by surprise somehow. I had to strike him head-on and corner him in an instant where retreat would be impossible. On the first night of my café reconnaissance, I pushed myself hard and managed to cover about fourteen or fifteen establishments, yet even so hadn't cleared two blocks' worth of storefronts on the left side. But I didn't falter. I seriously considered hiring a private detective, but believing this matter absolutely couldn't be sniffed out by others, I kept investigating everything myself.

I still had some money left, but the crucial two-week deadline was about to expire. If my heart burst before I found Uncle's establishment, that would be the end. It would have been more meaningful to give my brother the remaining three hundred yen in Q University's Room 11 and kill myself... May 11th—now reduced to the final day of those two weeks—saw a sudden reversal of the clear weather that had lasted so fortunately; from morning onward, a rainy season-like drizzle fell in a soft patter.

Though it wasn’t as if my aortic aneurysm’s lifespan had been scientifically measured to last exactly two weeks from April 27, when I sat up, I felt an odd heaviness pounding beneath my left ribs—thud-thud-thud—as if something were pushing back. I peered at my face in the bathroom mirror—withered beyond recognition. My skin had turned lead-black from long avoiding baths out of caution for my heart, while the whites of my sleep-starved eyes glinted brassy. The sheer deathly pallor clinging to me resembled nothing so much as a Noh theater ghost mask. Growing self-conscious, I meticulously shaved with a safety razor, took cream and powder from the maid, and patted them on. When afternoon came—my heart no longer feeling like my own in this strange mood—I staggered out into Ginza through the still-falling bluish drizzle.

The scope of my work was now quite limited.

As I passed by a narrow alley between a Western goods store and a picture frame shop near Kyōbashi-guchi, I sensed something might be deeper within, so I turned my shoulders sideways and ventured in about a block. I soon emerged into a vacant lot roughly three ken square, its surface hardened with lime-based plaster. In front of the sturdy wooden door stood a Western-style stone building resembling a warehouse, its surface studded all over with brass nails the size of a child’s head. The remaining three sides were enclosed by a section of massive concrete buildings, forming a square. From a gray plane of about thirty tsubo lofted high upon high on the back of that building, pale-glistening rain fell swiftly, swiftly, swiftly, endlessly down.

“We-e-e-lcome…” A strange voice suddenly sounded right by my ear, startling me. Before my eyes… in the middle of the vacant lot, a gigantic Indian man stood as if he had descended from the heavens. I took a step back. I looked up at the Indian man, wide-eyed.

II His physique loomed like Mount Tachiyama—weighing nearly thirty kan. The impeccable turban wrapped around his head made him appear doubly intimidating and magnificent. Beneath thick, bushy eyebrows resembling centipede legs, brown eyes glinted from shadowed sockets beneath an impossibly prominent nose. Clad in baggy Indian garb and clumsy rubber boots, he shot me a suspicious glance before abruptly dipping his head in a shallow bow. Somehow sensing my uncle’s lair might be nearby, I feigned a handshake to slip him a ten-yen note—a gesture that appeared to startle him with its largesse.

He pressed his shaggy hands to his chest in a salute of the highest order. He pushed open the brass-studded door directly behind him and flashed an ingratiating smile to usher me inside. Beyond the door lay an entrance hall resplendent with opulent mosaic tiles. On a bench nestled in one tile-covered corner sat three burly men in tuxedos, arms crossed—bodyguards recognizable at a glance. One of them caught the Indian man's meaningful look and scrambled upright, bending at a sharp right angle like a nail as he bowed to me. He opened the basement door to our right, guided me through, then shut it behind us with a decisive snap.

I timidly descended the mat-covered stairs bathed in blue light; upon passing through the revolving door at the end, everything plunged into pitch darkness. But soon from that blackness emerged a cold, small woman’s hand that firmly grasped my left hand. Chilling leaves brushed against my cheeks as she pulled me deeper through the foliage. I was gripped by terrible tension. It reminded me of when I dueled in Suwa Forest late at night during my Waseda University days...

However, as I ventured deeper into those thickets, I was astonished. This was no mere duel. I will avoid going into detailed facts, but should I call it paradise, or perhaps describe it as hell? There was a cinema. There was a bathhouse. There was a cave. There was a theater…… As I looked around at such things while sweating profusely, I eventually came upon a hall filled with a phosphorescent, passionate light. Amidst overlapping palms, banana plants, coconut palms, betel palms, and linden trees, white tables and rattan chairs were scattered. It was a stillness unthinkable for the center of Tokyo.

I sighed with relief for no particular reason and settled heavily in the shade of a rubber tree. There I looked intently at the face of the woman who had been leading me by the hand until now. The woman timidly held out a glass of plain soda before me. Chestnut-brown curls cascaded in abundant waves from her shoulders to her chest as she wore a long yellow one-piece Indian dress with flowing skirts. Grayish-pale lustrous skin bore thick eyelashes framing long-lidded double eyelids and clear brown eyes. Black crescent-shaped eyebrows arched long and low. A slender chin tapered firmly. Small coral-colored lips parted to reveal a somehow melancholy gleam of white teeth that seemed either sad or bashful. Enormous pearls dangling from both ears swayed as her cheeks flushed faintly with a wide blink. She was undoubtedly Indian, yet her features carried an astonishing nobility.

I received a glass of soda water cold enough to numb my fingers. “What is your name?” “Adari.” Dimples formed on the woman’s cheeks and chin. Her cheeks turned bright red, and her eyes glistened beautifully. I was surprised again. She was undoubtedly a virgin. She wasn’t the kind of woman who belonged in a place like this. “When did you start working at this place?” “From today… Just now…” “What have you been doing until now?” “I was learning Japanese with my younger sister Mayaール.”

“Where is that Miss Mayaール…?” “She is upstairs at Mother’s place.”

“Hmm… Where is your father?”

My speech naturally became more courteous.

“Our father is in India.” “No. That’s your mother’s husband. Do you understand?”

“I understand. He’s the one who bought us sisters and saved my father in India when Westerners tried to take his land, right?” “That’s correct. What is that person’s name?”

“He is Mother’s husband upstairs.” “His name is Mr. Subata.” My chest leapt.

“That’s right. That’s Mr. Subata. Where is Mr. Subata? That Mr. Subata...” “He’s out front.” “Out front...? Where out front…?” “He’s standing there disguised as an Indian.”

“Ah.” “Is that Indian man?” “I thought he was genuine.”

“Mr. Subata is a real Indian.” “I see, I see. You’d think that, wouldn’t you? Damn fine acting skills. Here’s ten yen—do what I say.” “I’m happy! Hold me…”

As soon as she exclaimed this, Adari wrapped both arms around my neck. The foreigner’s body odor enveloped me so thickly it was hard to breathe. I didn’t know who had trained her in this coquettish act, but I suddenly found it all absurd. “Idiot… This isn’t the time for that. Guide me to the entrance.” “Um… Please don’t meet… Please…” Adari seemed to have already detected something dangerous she recognized from my expression.

“Don’t worry. There’s no need to worry. I’m going to redeem you.” “...Redeem...?” “Yeah. I’m going to redeem you from Uncle.”

“Huh? Really...?” “I mean it. I’m the owner of a fruit shop. I’ll make you a shop clerk. Good enough?” “I’m happy. I’ll sing a song.” “Don’t bother with songs. That ‘Mother’ upstairs—she’s Ungetsusai Gyokuto, that beautiful woman, right?” “No. That’s wrong. She’s called Unoko Subata.” “Same difference.”

As we were having this conversation, Adari guided me up the dark basement stairs to the top. To the right was a narrow, dark wooden staircase. It seemed to be right behind where the entrance bouncers were sitting. “This staircase must lead to the second floor.” “Yes. I cannot go beyond here.” “Alright. Go back to that room and wait. Soon enough, Mr. Subata will come to get you…”

In the entrance, three tuxedo-clad men who looked like bouncers were sitting with their arms crossed, but when they saw my face as I tried to leave, all three watched me with frightened expressions. When I grabbed the door handle, all three fearfully started to half-rise from their seats but immediately sat back down again. I thought they were strange fellows, but before long, the reason for their fear became clear. When I softly opened what seemed to be a heavy oak entrance door from the inside, angry shouts immediately came rushing in from outside.

The foremost gigantic Indian man stood rigidly with his back against the door. On the wet paved stones about four or five steps ahead, five or six burly men in suits and raincoats stood barring the path, all facing this direction. At their center stood a hatless giant, clutching a thick black-lacquered cane in his right hand. They were unmistakably yakuza. They must have come to threaten this establishment under the pretext of the recent anti-vice crusade. The Indian man showed no sign of turning to look at me. His right hand held a small silver pistol, while his left gripped a thick wad of banknotes that he jiggled rhythmically up and down. From the pitch-black void above his head, a silvery drizzle continued pouring relentlessly, heightening the scene's ominous intensity.

The hatless giant man at the center of the yakuza group switched his cane to his left hand. He bellowed while thrusting his right hand into his coat pocket. “I’ve come on heaven’s behalf to execute you all. You’re spouting off about Japan-India this-and-that while trafficking South Seas women on the streets of Ginza. We’ve got solid evidence on you.”

That was truly a visage so furious it seemed the hair would pierce the heavens.

However, in stark contrast to this, the Indian man’s attitude was admirable. Even if that was the despicable, brutal disguise of my uncle, there was such a dignified air about him that I found myself thinking… perhaps I needed to reassess his character after all… While facing off against six reckless tough men, he seemed to smile through his bearded cheek. “Heh heh heh.” “Please refrain from raising your voice.” “I don’t run my business thanks to your help.”

The cane-wielding giant instantly turned pale with anger. The other five men also steadily closed in from behind.

“Wh-what the…” “You—are you the master of this house?”

“I am not the master of this house. I am an Indian magician.”

“Magician…?…” “Yes… When my finger touches something, everything turns into money.” “Everything that doesn’t turn into money turns into blood.” “Heh heh heh…”

“……………………” The six reckless men seemed utterly overwhelmed, all exchanging glances with eyes darting wildly. They appeared to have sensed this Indian man was no ordinary person. I became convinced this was indeed my uncle. I felt thoroughly impressed. “Well… How about it?” “Just how much do you want?” “As for you all…”

“S-s… Hand over 3,000 yen.”

“Ahahaha!” “I can’t possibly give that much.” “I have only 850 yen here now.” “Dammit... You think we’ll back down for that measly scrap of cash?”

“Heh heh heh. “This is the back of the Building. “Do you understand? “This is the back of the Building. “Even if you fire a pistol, it won’t be heard as far as the street. “Any deal can be arranged. “Now… Money or blood… Which will you choose?” “Blood…!” At the same moment he shouted, the giant man holding a cane drew a black pistol from his right pocket. In that instant, I spread my arms wide and stood blocking in front of the Indian man. Before I could even think, Adari—wearing a yellow dress and seemingly having rushed out from the door behind me—stood overlapping in front of me. She seemed intent on protecting both me and the Indian man.

The giant man seemed taken aback. He stepped back one pace while still holding the pistol.

However, I was even more taken aback than that. I tried to grab Adari from behind and push her aside, but this proved to be my grave mistake. In that split second, a brown streak of light burst from the giant man’s right hand before my eyes, and the Indian man’s massive frame fell backward with a heavy thud, collapsing wordlessly. He groaned and drew both legs inward.

After shutting Adari between the doors, I stood abruptly beside the fallen Indian man. I stood there abruptly, gasping for breath, caught in a whirlpool of emotions—disappointment, confusion, resentment—all swirling into something utterly indescribable. I was on the verge of losing self-control due to an indescribable sense of despair. Right before my nose, the giant man lumbered closer. “The hell are you…?” I laughed coldly. Around me—front and back, left and right—the emboldened yakuza members blocked the way. As if they were determined not to let me escape...

Taking advantage of that opening, the giant man quickly bent down and tried to snatch the bundle of bills from the Indian man’s hand. I involuntarily flared up. I suddenly rushed over and kicked the giant man’s right hand with the tip of my shoe. The bills scattered and stuck to the sopping wet plaster surface. “Ugh…” As the giant man—bristling with rage—attempted to deliver a blow above my ear, I ducked my head in a head-slip motion, then seized the opening to swing both arms violently outward, dislocating the shoulder joints of two men flanking me who screamed in pain. At the same time, I grabbed the right hand of the giant man in front of me—who was trying to grip his pistol—by twisting it backward and throwing him over my shoulder; with a snap, the giant man, whose right upper arm bone had been dislocated, sprawled out on the plaster floor before my eyes.

As I seized the pistol from his hand and looked around while remaining on one knee, the rest of the men fled through the narrow alley entrance, leaving the giant man behind as they shoved and jostled each other. When I then saw the tuxedo-clad men and bodyguards who had rushed out from the door behind me chase after them while roaring angrily, I suddenly found it comical. After seeing them off, I bowed my head slightly toward the fallen Indian man’s corpse. “You got what you deserved.” “Please rest in peace.” After offering a silent prayer, I calmly picked up each and every scattered bill and put them into my pocket. Then I pushed open the door behind me, slipped through beside the entrance, and smoothly ran up the narrow wooden stairs to reach the second floor.

Compared to the basement’s opulent splendor, the second floor felt like an abandoned house. The abundance of windows made it excessively bright, which only made the crude walls and dust-covered floorboards appear all the more wretched. I cast a sweeping glance around me, then charged toward the end of the corridor. It was to prevent Ungetsusai Gyokuto Joshi—whose real name was Subata Unoko—said to be in the office from escaping.

At the end of the corridor was a blue-painted door with a brass plate affixed to it, engraved with the words "Office". When I tried to open the door, Adari—in her yellow dress—suddenly lunged at my right arm and sank her teeth in like a lioness. She looked up at me with eyes filled to the brim with tears. “You must not kill your aunt…”

I was stunned. I was dumbfounded. How did Adari know the secret buried deep in my heart? My tongue tied itself in knots from sheer panic. “You fool… She’s not… she’s not my real aunt.” “She’s a viper!” Adari clung even more tightly to my arm. She shook her chestnut hair vigorously from side to side. “That’s not true… She’s a good person. “She is our benefactor.” I was appalled. At the same time, I panicked. I suddenly shoved the bundle of 850 yen I had been gripping in my left hand into the collar of Adari’s dress.

“Here... take this. Let go of me.” “Ah! You mustn’t!”

Adari shouted and hurriedly tried to retrieve the bundle of bills. Seizing that moment, I shook Adari off and leapt into the blue-painted door—but involuntarily let out a gasp. The room before me was filled with crimson and golden light like a royal palace. It must have been what they call Louis XVI-style—something I'd once seen in an illustration... Crimson woolen cloth with golden tassels adorned the window drapes and table covers, while white-lacquered chairs and tables inlaid with gold, silver, and jewels stood lavishly arranged. On the wall opposite the entrance above a large fireplace hung a huge mirror that clearly reflected my altered face—ghastly pale and contorted.

Hair standing in disarray like a chimney sweep’s brush. Bluish-black spasming facial muscles. A pulled and distorted old suit. Necktie. Dress shirt. The specter of an aortic aneurysm—a death-defying figure…. There was no one in the room. Beside the large fireplace, atop a rosewood stand, stood a solitary nude statue of a boy with both hands dangling and his face turned skyward (I later heard this was a bronze masterpiece by Rodin, brought back from Paris as a souvenir by Ungetsusai Gyokuto Joshi). The room was filled to bursting with the fragrance of perfume, so deathly still it felt like I might lose consciousness.

“Hohohohohohoho.” When an unexpected woman’s laughter came from an unexpected direction, I was startled. I turned sharply toward that direction and braced myself. In the right-hand corner of the room stood an extravagant bed that appeared to be cloisonné craftsmanship. The crimson curtain, adorned with a complexly embroidered emblem in gold thread, swayed gently—then swiftly parted to both sides. Pushing aside the emerald-green feather quilt within, a startling phantom abruptly rose up.

A beauty like an enchanting flower in an iridescent evening dress... heard about in rumors... seen in bromide photos... seen on the silver screen... No. Even younger—fragrant, vivid, radiant beauty... I wondered if this was a hallucination conjured by my aortic aneurysm. To think I could see such a magnificent phantom—I even wondered if syphilis hadn't reached my brain—so bewitching was her form.

“Ohohohohoho. This is my first time having the honor of meeting you. I am Gyokuto, who has the honor of being under my esteemed uncle’s care.” I plopped down onto the low damask-covered armchair behind me. The cushion bounced me back, nearly making me slip off, so I hurriedly readjusted my seat. “Hoho. I have been observing your every move from here since the beginning. I was deeply impressed by the splendid skill in your hands. Excuse me… but that Adako… Adako…”

“Yes…” Almost simultaneously with her reply, the door beside me opened quietly. Adari—fresh freesia flowers adorning her ears—entered reverently holding a silver tray at eye level, its two blue teacups filled with steaming reddish-black liquid. Was this Indian ceremonial protocol? Bowing deeply as if cradling it above her head, she placed the tray on the low table before me. Every trace of her earlier desperation at the door now vanished, Adari pressed both hands to her chest in a profound bow and withdrew with composure like leaves scattered by wind.

As I watched her retreating figure disappear beyond the door, I finally regained my senses. At the same time, I could do nothing about the unbearable fury seething up from the pit of my stomach at the two of them and their all-too-feigned composure.

The two of them—fully aware their husband and master lay dead at the entrance—calmly surrounded me and performed this utterly cold-blooded charade. Adari had stopped me at the door undoubtedly to buy time for that venomous woman Gyokuto Joshi to prepare something. The moment this realization struck, my body snapped taut. “Ohohoho. “Do compose yourself. “Please have some Indian tea… There’s actually a matter I wish to discuss with you.”

“There’s no need for me to calm down any further.” “My eyes can see.” “My ears can hear.” “What kind of consultation is this?”

“Oh… How terribly hasty you are, Mr. Tomotarō.” I started when she abruptly called my name. But I didn’t let it show on my face—I cleared my throat instead. “I’ve no choice in the matter. My time’s running short.”

“My... You say you have no time—why is that?”

“I’m going to die in two or three days.” “I have an aortic aneurysm.” “Well… you mention an aortic aneurysm…”

“On the twenty-seventh of last month, I had my heart X-rayed at Q University.” “Then they discovered a massive aortic aneurysm at the root of my heart’s aorta.” “Since they declared I only had two weeks left to live then, my lifespan is down to today or tomorrow.” As I spoke, my aunt’s made-up complexion began visibly changing. Her skin lost tension like an octogenarian’s, her lips quivered, and tears welled in her eyes. The hand holding her cup started trembling violently.

“That’s why I came to consult you. ... So... what will you do about my brother?”

“Th-that’s already something I’ll handle…” “You can’t just spout empty words, Aunt. Formulate a proper plan right before my eyes.” “Wait… please wait. I must consult Uncle first…” “Fool… You think I’d swallow that trick? …You poisonous woman…” “What? I… a poisonous woman…?” “Poisonous woman… poisonous woman… You’re the one who incited my uncle to embezzle my parents’ fortune and then stole their very lives…”

“Ah… Th… That’s a terrible misunderstanding on your part!” “Wh...what’s with all this blathering now… Prepare yourself…” “Huh…?” As she cried out, Madame Gyokuto slipped past the tip of the dagger I had raised and leaped into the bed. She pulled the iridescent feather quilt over her head, but I aimed for where the chest of the figure beneath would be and plunged the dagger in with a sickening thrust.

But strangely, the feather quilt had been flattened. I hurriedly flipped up the feather quilt and peered underneath—then let out a startled cry and stood frozen. Under the feather quilt lay nothing but sheets stained crimson with blood. In the center of those sheets was something—when I thrust my hand in, the space below seemed to be empty. When I tried pulling it open with both hands, about three feet below was a staircase, and I could see a blue electric light glowing.

I had been completely fooled. Madame Ungetsusai Gyokuto had escaped through her signature magic tricks. But getting angry wouldn't help me catch up. Still gripping the blood-stained dagger, I began spacing out—but when I calmly looked around, unexpected voices came from the front.

I stood up and peered through the window beyond the bed—the commotion outside matched expectations. At the narrow alley entrance swarmed policemen in jet-black uniforms; the house stood encircled by an impenetrable cordon that denied even ants an escape route. The regular retinue of bodyguards hung shackled in single file, heads bowed beneath the crush of bodies. From below emerged gentlemen who'd raucously occupied the basement earlier—half-naked actresses, cinematographers, café girls—all hauled forth in relentless succession. The ten-tsubo vacant lot now seethed like potatoes churning in wash water.

Then hearing the sound of the door behind me open, I whirled around to find two or three policemen with chin straps clattering in. They all bore murderous looks, but when they saw my blood-drenched right hand as I turned, they abruptly shoved two or three pistols toward me.

“Don’t move! You're the culprit! The culprit is…” I calmly stood upright on the bed. “That’s right. No need for trouble.” “Where did you hide the corpse… The master of this house’s corpse…”

“I don’t know.”

I was inwardly dumbfounded. If the police hadn’t disposed of it, it should have had no choice but to vanish.

“You bastard… Playing dumb, are you?” No sooner had he spoken than the leading officer lunged forward. In the blink of an eye, I twisted my body and leaped into the bed. With a thud, I landed on the stairs and immediately sprang up to dash down them.

I dashed down and collided with a single door. As soon as I collided with it, I pushed it open and went inside. Finding a sturdy latch installed there, I seized the chance and secured it firmly. I finally calmed down, steadied the pounding in my chest, and began groping my way through the pitch-black tunnel. Not knowing where I was going...

III

I walked through the darkness, groping my way for two or three blocks while pondering the series of inexplicable, unresolved events. The fact that my uncle—whom I had been convinced was the ultimate coward—had died with utmost bravery. The fact that his corpse had vanished at some point. The strangeness of Adari knowing my true identity. The strangeness of my aunt knowing my name. My aunt’s indifference to her husband’s death and Adari’s forced act. This aunt’s grave sympathy for my aortic aneurysm… then that bed trick… this secret passage… None of it added up. It was all like a dream within a dream—nothing but strange things. It was a wonder my heart hadn’t burst. Even though my fate was supposedly closing in today or tomorrow… Lost in such thoughts as I groped forward, I collided with yet another staircase. It seemed to be spiral-shaped. After climbing twenty or thirty steps, I struck a match and found myself facing what appeared to be a revolving door. There were hand smudges up and down its surface. When I pushed the lower part, it rotated smoothly as expected, letting me emerge into a splendid apartment room. Peering through the window revealed the bustle of Ginza 1-chome below.

In a corner of the room, a splendid tuxedo hung on a clothes rack, with a velour hat, kangaroo leather shoes, and a silver-topped snakewood cane arranged above and below it.

I took off that old suit stained with Madame Ungetsusai Gyokuto’s blood and changed into those clothes without hesitation. When I put on the hat, the pungent smell of a woman’s hair hit me—this had to be one of that venomous Madame Ungetsusai Gyokuto’s disguise pieces. The oversized hat and tight shoes gave me trouble, but I managed to make them work. After changing, I found an elaborate fake mustache and black tortoiseshell-framed sunglasses in the right pocket and promptly put them on. Checking myself in the hand mirror, I looked every bit a first-rate artist.

As I stepped out into the street, I immediately stood before the tobacco shop's display window next to me. I peered into the mirror set diagonally beside the display window, trying to fix my disguised appearance in mind once more... Yet before I could make out my own figure in it, I had already discovered something astonishing. Over the shoulder of a salaryman-type middle-aged gentleman who had abruptly stopped right behind me to stare intently, about two-thirds of Ginza's bustling avenue was reflected. In the splendid old-fashioned boxy Packard automobile moving parallel to the streetcar tracks along this avenue sat—a gentleman in a tailcoat and what appeared to be a lady in evening attire—they looked exactly like Uncle and Madame Gyokuto.

I felt like I had encountered ghosts in the middle of Ginza. Suddenly unbearably terrified, I bolted out into the tramway like a frightened hare. “Look out!” Without heeding the conductor’s yell, I leaped aboard the approaching tram. When I came to Ōwarichō, I jumped off again.

Thinking to casually return to Hakuhōkan in Tsukiji as I was, I came to the foot of Kobikibashi, but when I looked across the river, I stopped in my tracks with a start. Two or three police officers who had just emerged from the entrance of Hakuhōkan across the river were standing on the bank, looking around restlessly left and right. Ah, not only had my true identity been discerned by the authorities, but they had even tracked down my inn—what astonishing efficiency! How had my true identity—having come from Kyushu without even informing my younger brother—been uncovered, and from where?

To my ears, standing there dumbfounded, came the sound of a radio like a demon’s voice. "...And now we present tonight's final 9:30 PM news bulletin." Tonight at Ginza X-chome 24 Banchi, a horrific and bizarre gang incident broke out at Café Crocodile, operated by Mr. Shylock Spada, an Indian national. The assailants were members of the Koksuuitai (National Essence Group), who had previously shocked the entire capital by attacking Ginza Bank. They shot dead Mr. Shylock Spada—the Indian national standing at Café Crocodile’s entrance—and attempted to force their way further inside, but police responding to the emergency managed to apprehend approximately three of them.

At the same time, all of Café Crocodile's unsavory business practices have been fully exposed by the authorities; however, detailed particulars have not yet been released for publication, and we humbly ask for your kind understanding.

However, there remains one peculiar matter to report: alongside those members of the patriotic group, an additional assailant had infiltrated Café Crocodile. This villain, exploiting the chaos, rushed up to the café’s second floor and stabbed to death Madame Ungetsusai Gyokuto—the renowned paramour of Mr. Spada who had been concealed in the second-floor office—before escaping through an underground passage. What baffles most profoundly is that Mr. Spada’s corpse and Madame Gyokuto’s remains vanished as if erased precisely when police arrived on the scene—perhaps due to the villain’s trickery—leaving authorities unable to determine the incident’s truth and appearing deeply perplexed.

However, as the culprit’s facial features and appearance had been ascertained in detail through eyewitness accounts, he was expected to be arrested by tomorrow night at the latest, with an extensive security alert now deployed throughout Tokyo. "...End of report."

I staggered unsteadily out from the pitch-dark shadow of the lumber pile and slowly began to step into the roadway across from me. At that moment, a Packard open car came speeding from the left, blaring its horn fiercely as it passed by. Having narrowly escaped being run over, I frantically leaped onto the sidewalk and looked back—then involuntarily let out a startled cry.

Illuminated by the yellow interior light of that Packard, weren't those seated side by side undoubtedly my younger brother and Adari? Moreover, my brother wore a crisp navy-and-brown striped sack coat—his favorite pattern—with a gleaming blue boater hat. Adari had on a small black iron helmet-shaped ladies' hat, an egg-colored walking dress that sharply accentuated her grayish skin, white socks, and white shoes. Both sported matching golden rose blossoms pinned to their chests, hadn't they? Then they both looked at me in surprise while simultaneously pressing each other's knees to restrain one another.

Ah, could it be that everything that had happened since I left Kyushu was nothing but an unending series of nightmares? Could it be that I was still sleeping inside the sleeper car of the Tokaido Line? No—given that my younger brother's declaration of my aortic aneurysm had merely materialized the very fears I'd long harbored as a dream, could it be that I remained lying on the bed in Ward 11 of Q University Hospital, struggling in vain to awaken from this nightmare?

Utterly bewildered, I set off walking briskly. At the same time, I felt blisters seeming to have formed here and there on both heels begin to sting sharply.

But I never imagined that police boxes throughout Tokyo could be arranged with such cunning precision. I had once lived in Tokyo for a long time and considered myself quite familiar with its underworld, but it was only then that I learned for the first time in my life that it was absolutely impossible to leave the city limits without passing in front of a police box. To such an extent was the arrangement of police boxes throughout Tokyo skillfully devised. Tormented by the dread that new white police boxes were sprouting up everywhere I went, I slipped through back alleys and darted past station fronts under the cover of trams, finally reaching the riverside at Ryōgoku through sheer force of will. I couldn’t take another step beyond this point. If I went forward, I would run into the police box at the bridge's approach. Even if I hired a boat from the riverbank, I couldn’t escape the water police’s notice. At the river mouth, sharp eyes were probably gleaming.

I was cornered. To think that I—having become a criminal without achieving my purpose and wandered through the town—would end up with nowhere left to go; how utterly unfortunate I was!

I gazed at the river water flowing serenely. Starlight and lamplight mingled in a dreamlike beauty. Is it at moments like these that humans suddenly feel like dying...? I wondered, while—

“Sir.” “Shall we go?”

Suddenly, a gentle man-like voice sounded behind me, so I was startled and turned around. A splendid streamlined box-shaped car was waiting. I wordlessly leapt into the car, but once inside, I was startled. The driver was a woman wearing a coarse-striped hunting cap. Through the rearview mirror, I glimpsed black glasses identical to mine beneath it - that gecko-colored face flashed me a faint smile.

“Which way shall we go?”

“Anywhere’s fine—just get me out to the suburbs.” “Huh? The suburbs…” The female driver furrowed her delicate brows. I thought she looked familiar, but at that moment, I simply couldn’t recall where I’d seen her. “What’s wrong with the suburbs?” “No. You see, there was a commotion in Ginza today. A police cordon’s been set up. I do have a Yokohama license, and the car’s registered there—I could technically get back, but whether you can pass through safely, sir.”

“Ha ha ha! Don’t mock me. It’s not like I killed anyone.”

The female driver sneered coldly. “I can’t say for sure…… But if you’re willing, there is a way……” “……Hmm…” “So what’s your plan?” “Lie down under that seat.”

“What... under this...?”

I slowly started moving, stood up in the car, and tried lifting the seat cushion.

……What…… Under the seat was neatly made into a leather-upholstered bed, complete with an air pillow. Seeing that all sides were covered with wire mesh and air could freely pass through, this car was no ordinary vehicle. The moment I realized this, countless imaginings swirled through my mind in an instant—but I thought this was no time for hesitation. And, resolutely slipping into it, I pulled out some banknotes. “Here’s ten yen.”

“Thank you very much. I’ll collect the rest later.” No sooner had she spoken than the driver violently accelerated. As the engine’s drone filled my ears, my exhausted body finally began slipping into drowsiness—though I fought to stay awake.

“Sir… We’ve arrived.”

A voice called out near my ear. “Hey, we’re here.” Reflexively, I sat up. The female driver sneered, grabbed my arm as I crawled out from under the cushion, and led me into a large Western-style concrete building.

Looking at the signpost on the gatepost, it read "Ten'yo Hotel, Isezakichō." Before I knew it, I came to Yokohama. The female driver guided me to the deluxe room number twelve on the second floor. "Please wait here for a moment."

Having said that, she briskly left. Taking off my shoes, I lay down on the bed, my eyes wide awake. Rubbing my blistered feet, I waited for the female driver to return.

Ten minutes... Twenty minutes... Thirty minutes... When I finally realized she wasn’t coming, my nerves began to fray once more. So this was a shady hotel after all. If they caught me and tried anything funny, that’d be the end of my luck. Either way, we’d be companions on the road to the underworld. This was compensation for my failure in Tokyo. With a feeling of 'Just watch what I'll do...', I reached out and pressed the bedside bell two or three times.

Having ordered them to purchase a white ticket for tomorrow’s departing Shanghai-bound steamer, I planned to board that Nagasaki Maru ship headed for Shanghai, leave behind a suicide note confessing all the facts alongside Morihiro’s dagger, and plunge into the sea. To ensure there was no chance of survival, I would shoot myself in the head with a pistol... Then immediately there came a knock at the door, and a boy of fourteen or fifteen with a cute face entered, his eyes wide and round as he bowed. “May I help you?” With all the tension drained from me, I lay stretched out on the bed and handed over the money.

The boy who had bought the ticket grinned oddly while rubbing his hands together. “If you find yourself bored after dinner, would you care to visit the hotel’s dance hall? It’s right below here, though.”

With full curiosity, I went down to the dance hall after hurriedly finishing dinner. I had been struck by a premonition that something would inevitably occur there, yet found nothing unusual about the dance hall. Moreover—perhaps due to repercussions from Tokyo’s recent turmoil—the dancing patrons were exceedingly sparse, with only a single well-dressed man who resembled a young doctor boisterously dancing alone while a throng of women cheered him on wildly. The man had faintly ruddy skin with sparse yellowish hair and eyebrows, yet appeared so buoyantly cheerful that I found myself watching him with an inexplicable nostalgia—until he finished his dance, wiped his pink-stained mouth with a handkerchief, and lumbered straight over to plop down heavily in the armchair beside me.

“Ah, I must apologize for that.”

He abruptly bowed his head toward me. With an air of complete nonchalance, he offered me a glass of champagne.

“Thank you very much. But I must decline.” When I said this and bowed my head, the man’s expression rapidly shifted into something strange. The cheerfulness he had shown me until now vanished without a trace; for a while, he stiffened his facial muscles rigidly, staring intently at my face in a peculiar manner, before finally letting out a deep sigh and giving a single large nod. “Ah ha, your heart must be in bad shape.” My heart gave one large thud.

“Huh?! H-how... How do you know that?!”

“Ahaha, I can tell from your complexion. “It must be an aortic aneurysm.” “……” I was on the verge of passing out. Before my very eyes, the man presented a business card. When I took it and looked, it was printed in Ming-style typeface: “Radiology Specialist Furuki Wataru.” I began to suspect that even this man’s naked eye was made of X-rays. “Ah ha.” “Ah ha… As an X-ray specialist…” “That’s right. “If it’s an aortic aneurysm, they come rushing to my clinic nearly every day, so I’ve become quite accustomed to recognizing it at a glance from the texture of the skin. “Since many people are saved safely and soundly, you see. “It’s a regular stampede, hahaha…”

Dr. Furuki continued speaking, all the while looking at me as I sat there with my mouth agape. “Oh, no. “It’s a perfectly ordinary treatment method. “In my secret remedy, there’s a plant-based alkaloid called Bushirin. “While taking this medicine, your blood vessels will quickly soften and your blood pressure will lower, making them less prone to rupture. “Therefore, while administering that medicine and injecting Salvarsan 606 to eradicate the syphilis that’s the source of the aneurysm, the aneurysm gradually shrinks and recovers into a normal, sturdy blood vessel. “Moreover, since a sturdy calcified wall remains where it had been swollen, it will never rupture from there again. “Only one in ten patients who come to my clinic fail to survive.”

I slid down from the chair in utter abjection. “Please—let me have that medicine. Please save me.” “Ahaha.” “It’s a simple matter.” “Now have a seat.” “This is the medicine.” “The white powder in these capsules comes from bushi—the poison Ainu hunters use on arrowheads.” “Take this and your heart won’t burst no matter how violently you exert yourself for twenty-four hours.” “...Hey!” “Hey there!” “Bring this gentleman a glass of soda water!”

I felt as if I were in a dream within a dream. "But... someone like you, Doctor... why in a place like this..." “Ahahahaha! You’ve got quite the strong fortune, haven’t you? ……Truth is, I make so much money I’ve got to come to a place like this just to catch my breath. Hah hah.” “So it’s… that treatment for the aneurysm…”

“Nah. The aneurysm treatment has its limits, you know. That deep-penetration X-ray business keeps me thriving though.” He chuckled darkly. “When you’ve got a heap of secrets from society ladies with too much time on their hands… Well—any world where this pays so well isn’t worth saving! Hah!” I felt soda-water drunk as Dr. Furuki dragged me into the dance hall. He made three women cling to him and spun like a millwheel. Then—surrounded by those women while dancing arm-in-arm with him—the ceiling lights suddenly blazed rainbow-bright. A sickly yellow taste flooded my mouth—poisoned?—but too late. Hands gripped my shoulders—five? six?—then nothing.

IV

When I came to with a start, I found myself lying in an unfamiliar hospital room. A quiet, dark, cellar-like hospital room surrounded by green walls and pale purple curtains. Bright sunlight from the blue sky streamed through gaps in the curtains, illuminating sweet peas that hung directly above my face from the head of the bed with a beautiful glow. Perhaps because the nose had gone numb, there seemed to be no fragrance. Before long, sweat drenched my entire body. When I fidgeted slightly, I realized I seemed to be wearing flannel or some sort of nightclothes.

“Ah…!”

When a small cry reached me from my bedside, I startled and turned to find a girl with chestnut hair coiled in ringlets wearing a yellow dress—a girl with large eyes, red lips, a high nose, and a complexion tinged with the melancholic hue of an areca palm.

“Adari.”

Adari responded not with words but with a single, large blink. It must have been one of those characteristic expressions particular to Indians.

“What’s today’s date…?” “May... thir... thirteenth...” “Huh... the thirteenth... really...?” “It’s... true...” With that, Adari picked up the newspaper lying on the small table by the wall and showed it to me. I snatched it and looked at the date. Tokyo Chūya Shimbun No. 18,021, Shōwa 9, May 13... Japan-Soviet Relations Improve... Europe Shows Signs of Renewed Warfare. “Where am I…” “Furuki X-ray Hospital…”

I was dumbfounded. However, I soon regained my senses and jumped up shouting. "Oh no! This is bad! Doctor... Call Dr. Furuki!" My shock must have been too intense—Adari seemed equally startled. Raising both hands high above her head repeatedly like a marionette, she ran off with knees lifted high. I had outlived my predicted lifespan by three days. When I pressed my hand to my chest, my heart still beat steadily with a clear thump-thump. This couldn't be real.

While I was scratching my disheveled head and vigorously rubbing my stubbled jaw, still comprehending nothing, there came a knock at the door—and Dr. Furuki serenely entered.

“Ah. “Awake now? “Does your head hurt?” “Now that you mention it... yeah, my head hurts and my chest feels queasy. “Nah, I’m fine. “About earlier...” “Ha ha! “My apologies. “Must’ve given you a shock. “Bringing you here without permission.”

“I’m actually quite startled. What’s happened? What on earth is all this…” “First, take a look at this.”

Dr. Furuki became slightly more serious and looked back over his shoulder. Adari, who had been hiding behind Dr. Furuki’s white coat, held out a round tube. Dr. Furuki popped off the tube’s lid and pulled out a large black square sheet that resembled celluloid. He held it up toward the sky and had me look through it. It was a large medical X-ray film. Beneath what appeared to be human ribs arranged in black, undulating rows, something resembling a white cloud lay hazy and indistinct.

“This white area is your heart.” “My heart…”

“That’s correct. Please look closely. This here is the heart’s right ventricle, and this here is the left ventricle. The aorta that emerges from here coils around in one twist like this and overlaps, you see? Do you understand?” “I understand. It looks like a rubber tube bent into a ‘no’ shape and overlapping.” “That’s right, that’s right. I brought you into this hospital under anesthesia to take this photograph. And so that night, I tried taking about five snapshots, and this one here turned out the clearest of them all.”

“Huh? What for...” “What for? Your uncle asked me to.” “What?! “My uncle. “That Subata... He’s still alive?” “Yes, very much alive and well. “He left for India last night with your aunt, Ungetsusai Gyokuto Joshi. “Aboard the Ginyōmaru...”

I blinked my eyes. Dr. Furuki narrowed his eyes even further and turned around. Behind Dr. Furuki’s shoulder, Adari also seemed to be suppressing her amusement while keeping her head down.

“Somehow… I don’t understand.”

“Ha ha ha….” “I don’t fully grasp the deeper circumstances myself, but it concerns your aunt.” “Ms. Ungetsusai Gyokuto Joshi—that is, Unoko—had been coming to my place for deep-penetration X-rays even before she retired from show business.” “In other words, birth control under the guise of beauty treatments.” “Since it’s you, I can speak plainly—it was through your aunt’s patronage that I graduated university and opened this hospital. This room was always her designated room when she was hospitalized.”

I took another look around the room's furnishings. Louis XVI-style furnishings，Rodin's torsos，Cézanne's still lifes... "I don't understand." Strange―a coincidence...

“No. It’s not a coincidence. You fell victim to your uncle and aunt’s scheme.” “Their scheme… I…”

“That’s correct. I am well aware. Since your uncle and aunt were often targeted by right-wing groups, they always wore bulletproof clothing. Your aunt would retreat into a trick bed using her signature magic whenever danger arose, which always led to the culprits being caught. Since you didn’t know this, you must have mistakenly believed your uncle and aunt had already passed away.”

I had never been made to blush like this since I was born. I felt a humiliation even more profound than if I had been told, "You’re an idiot…"

“It was precisely on the night of April 29th. I received a call from your aunt, went to the Ceylon Tea Shop in Ginza, and there heard all circumstances directly from your younger brother when meeting with your uncle and aunt—” “What?! My brother… How?” “After you were spotted departing Fukuoka Station and tracked to Tokyo—after your brother had confessed everything to your uncle and aunt for consultation—they mobilized every private detective in Tokyo to locate your lodgings. It was finally ascertained on the afternoon of May 11th, moments after you’d left Happōkan in Tsukiji.” “There your uncle and aunt stood fully prepared when—through unforeseen events—they came to understand your true sentiments toward your uncle, which immensely gratified him.” “Your aunt too felt profound sympathy for your brother’s devoted concern, yet deeply regretted having missed apprehending you by mere seconds. She dispatched agents in all directions to trace your whereabouts until someone who’d spotted you heading toward Ryōgoku Bridge telephoned the report.” “That’s when Ms. Adari—who’d been disguised as a man while accompanying them—immediately raced off in an automobile…”

“Ah. “So that driver was Adari…”

Adari turned bright red and hid behind Dr. Furuki.

“Ha ha ha ha.” “You’re quite the hard person to get used to, aren’t you?” “To forget Ms. Adari’s face… But Ms. Adari… and of course I… were impressed when we heard your story.” “Moved by your bravery, boldness, and passion, your uncle and aunt wondered if there was any way to save you—so they asked me to treat you.” “That’s why I deliberately arranged to meet you at Yokohama’s Ten'yō Hotel without letting you notice.” “Everything I told you back then was nonsense, but…”

“Huh? Lies.” “All of that… was lies…” I was about to sink into dark feelings again, but Dr. Furuki laughed as if to blow away my sorrow. “Ha ha—please, do not worry—just listen. At that time, your aunt ordered me to admit you to this hospital and keep you asleep for three days. That was the order—they’d make their preparations and flee to India during that time. And when I reported the treatment results to them, both your uncle and aunt were completely relieved…”

“…Relieved…” “Yes… They were relieved and had just departed last night.” “The details have been written in this letter, so…” Dr. Furuki took out a white horizontal envelope from the pocket of his white treatment gown and handed it to me. It was the unmistakable handwriting of my uncle.

“Omitted formalities. The only one who knows my past sins is you. You saved my life. You two are my conscience. I—who never hesitated in choosing means to achieve ends—apologize for keeping you two distant out of fear toward my sins. As atonement, we’ll leave half our wealth to your brother Tomojirō. I know your temperament well. Report this matter at your parents’ grave. For details, meet Attorney Kanai Kakuzō at Ōte 3-chōme in Kōjimachi Ward. We don’t want to die yet. Significant work remains for the nation—we depart for India. So long as we live, consider Japan-Britain diplomacy safe from rupture. Diplomacy lies beyond simple bookish youths like you. You may dislike it, but watch over Adari. She remains an innocent Indian noble’s daughter. Return at once to Q University. Keep to a judo instructor’s duty. Adari’s identity papers and asset ledger remain with Attorney Kanai.”

“And then... and then...” Trembling deathly pale, I looked at Dr. Furuki’s face.

“And then... and then... what happened to my aortic aneurysm?” “Ha ha ha ha. It's not an aneurysm. It’s nothing more than overlapping coils of blood vessels, just as shown in the X-ray. It’s a rare condition, but one that’s often mistaken for an aneurysm and causes unnecessary alarm. Your physical exertion was so intense that your blood vessels couldn’t withstand the pressure and ended up stretching. You have remarkably sturdy blood vessels… You’re sure to live a long life…”

I couldn’t hear the rest of [the] explanation. I could only hear Adari’s shrill scream. Because my consciousness had faded and I collapsed onto [the] bed…