Pathway to Japanese Literature

I

The gloomy building had small windows. The large gray monster seemed to have several eyes open. The monster was quite old. It was senile. When sunlight struck it, vague shadows would spread across flat ground; yet under an overcast sky hung like a mouse-gray curtain, forms stood out starkly. Inside the building, several rooms had been partitioned. All were rectangular rooms with walls painted gray. This building was not only gloomy in appearance from the outside but grew even gloomier when one stepped inside. If it were to start moving as it was, there would be no doubt it was a demon.

When night fell, red lamps were lit in these multiple eyes. It was because people lived inside. Therefore, it was not that the corpse of a dead monster had been abandoned in the wilderness. Even motionless, it retained some trace of vitality.

Every room contained broken benches and damaged desks with peeling paint. The scratches on the desks were white marks carved out with a penknife. There were X-shaped scratches and S-shaped ones. Some showed clear signs of intentional carving. For example, the warship anchor carvings were likely made intentionally—perhaps by someone imagining school badges or war illustrations while killing time. The remaining scratches had probably accumulated naturally through use. K sat hunched on the bench, scribbling relentlessly. He had skipped dinner in the dining hall again last night. B left his room and went straight to K's quarters, but lost his nerve and spied through a tear in the shoji paper. The previous night's lamp still glowed faintly, its light as lifeless as a corpse. K drove his pen across the page with furious intensity.

Even after returning to his own room, B couldn't stop thinking about K. He threw his corpulent body down onto the stark white thick futon and began writhing. What was K writing?…… For B, K's actions were unbearably preoccupying. When it came to what K said, B found himself strangely unable to resist.

B came to K's room again. While anxious about the interior situation, he bent down and peered. K was still moving the pen. At intervals, the gold pen's light flashed sharply. This occurred when pressure made the pen catch on the paper's grain. The pen moved with tremendous speed. There was scarcely time to breathe or dip ink. B tilted his head, swollen face clouded with unease. In the depths of morning's damp air, the gray building sank quietly. To B's eyes, the bee-stinger-sharp pen moving across paper appeared vividly. In its trail, blue liquid inscribed something disquieting... Before his gaze, it raced over three lines, then four.

B shook his large head and tried walking, but moving this body that no longer felt like his own was laborious.

The breakfast bell seeped through the cold air.

B, concealing his body in this corner, watched the people pushing through the door as they entered. They all wore lifeless expressions and sat trembling in silence. Soon bowls of steaming white broth were distributed before each person. B had barely eaten a morsel and still kept his restless eyes fixed on the doorway.

Late, one person then another came in, but after that no one else arrived. The only one absent was K. B was beside himself with anxiety. Surely K was writing something about me. If not that, what could he be writing?... With food stuck in his throat, B kept staring at the doorway, thinking K might still arrive late. Amidst this, one person rose and left. Another followed. Three departed; four after them. "It's hopeless"—B sank into depression.

I wonder if I should just go into K’s room and casually ask, “What are you writing?” No—that’s a bad idea. Instead, if he sees my face, he might develop an unexpected aversion and write something unnecessary. Moreover, even if what he was currently writing wasn’t related to me, seeing my face might strengthen the impression and lead him to make it about me after all. Therefore, I decided it would be best not to show my face at this time.

B went outside alone and sat down on a stone. Dirty clouds scudded across the sky. There was still time before winter would end. The frozen treetops stood bare and pitiful.

Within his bruised face, small fearful eyes lurked. His head ached as if being churned, and his eyes gradually grew clouded. In the distance was a forest. Beyond the forest stood a house. People lived there...... If he went far enough, there would be a different country. And he felt he could live there without these gloomy thoughts. B thought he could not reach there by his own power.

“After all—I’m still in this building,” he said and stood up from the stone.

He looked up at the building with resentment. He prayed to God under his breath, on the verge of tears…!

B came to K's room for the third time. Again, he peered through the hole in the shoji. K's form was not visible. B's heart pounded as though he might go mad. Ah, this was the moment. I had to see what he had written. From behind, something whispered with hot breath.

“Hurry, hurry—K will be here any moment!” The one who had whispered could not be clearly seen by B’s eyes. It was much larger than himself in body, taller in stature, and its color was a formless haze. There were no eyes to speak of. It had no mouth. Yet he did not find it strange that this being had whispered. B opened the shoji and entered. The ink on the gold pen had not yet dried. He could not determine how many pages had been written. To B’s eyes, the characters appeared like insects moving freely across the paper in their own arbitrary forms. In this moment, he had completely forgotten the very concept of written characters. He tried to make sense of them but could not read a single one. All these characters were ones he had once been familiar with... yet B could not make sense of himself.

Rather than the characters, he found himself distracted by the gleam of the gold pen. ...he could no longer comprehend himself there blankly, doing nothing. ……Two minutes passed. ……Three minutes passed. ……Five minutes seemed to have passed.

Footsteps sounded! B finally noticed and fled the room. ...he turned around and, with morbid intensity, saw the gold pen gleaming once more.

II

Even though I had all that time, why couldn’t I read the characters? All I saw were blue twisted lines. Why didn’t my brain function? I can’t believe I completely forgot the characters in that moment. Certainly, my mind had enough composure. From how the gold pen was stained with blue ink to even the peculiar quality of it shining under the gray light leaking through the window—these impressions remained in my eyes……

B writhed in agony on the white floor.

For a while, B slept exhausted. Suddenly he awoke from a horrifying dream.

Before his eyes stood K. He saw the red tie. The black suit stood out more distinctly than the color of night. His gaunt, towering figure could only be seen by B as that of a sorcerer. His hair was long. His eyes were sunken, emitting a gleam from their depths.

“I’ve come to trouble you once again,” said K coldly, without a trace of laughter. B remained silent. “Won’t you let me hypnotize you once more?”

B’s hair stood on end upon hearing these words.

Outside, the wind must have picked up—the sound of it striking the glass door rang out.

“Won’t you let me hypnotize you again?”

It was unlike the taciturn K to make such a request.

B remained sitting on the white floor without moving.

“I already know all your secrets,” K said. Even so, B remained silent. “Even if you say you hate it, I can still hypnotize you,” K said with a cold laugh. B realized that what K had been writing since earlier was indeed about his own circumstances.

“Did I tell you anything yesterday?” B could no longer restrain himself and spoke. K stared coldly at B’s face as if to bore holes through it while laughing.

B, fearing he might be hypnotized during this exchange, deliberately avoided looking at K's face and kept his gaze downward.

“You did,” K replied coldly, laughing with an eerie undertone. “What did I say?” “You should have figured it out.” “You’ve already revealed every secret hidden in your heart.” K sneered. “Since when does your authority extend to demanding other secrets?” B flushed crimson involuntarily. “But didn’t you allow me to hypnotize you?” “I permitted the hypnosis,” B retorted angrily, “but never agreed to this interrogation!”

The gaunt, tall K laughed coldly, his sunken eyes gleaming—Ha ha ha ha ha.

“Once you’re under [hypnosis], you’re mine.” “You become mine to control.”

“I will no longer be under your control,” B declared resolutely. “It’s no use,” said K, slipping both hands into his trouser pockets and straightening his back slightly. “What do you mean it’s no use? I won’t be under your control anymore.” “No—you should have already lost any power to resist me.” “You think of me as something extremely terrifying.” “You think of me as a great man and have become my slave.”

“What…?”

“You will become subject to my whims.” “For your entire life, you must remain under my dominion.” “What?” “I don’t comprehend your meaning.”

“There’s no way you don’t understand. Anyway, today I want you to submit to my hypnosis once again.”

K softened his tone and said to B in a pleading manner.

“I won’t.” “I’ll demonstrate my resistance to the very end.”

B mustered his courage, stood up, and took a seat on the bench. "Very well," said K. "I believe in my power." He straightened slightly while keeping his hands pocketed. "Even without your permission—" His sunken eyes gleamed coldly—"I'll demonstrate free hypnosis." He positioned himself squarely before B.

“Wait a moment,” said B as he sprang back from the bench. K hurriedly blocked the exit door to prevent him from escaping. “I’m not running away.” “I just have something to ask you.”

said B. K strode forward and blocked B’s path.

“I won’t let you escape.” “What did I talk about yesterday?”…… “What will you do upon hearing that?” And K, who had been laughing, scowled. “I just want to hear it.” “You told all the secrets.” “What will you do with those secrets you learned?” “I don’t have to tell you that.” “What did I talk about?” “You spoke of your birthplace.” “Next, from your parents’ names to the school you attended….”

“And then….” “You spoke about your time at school.” “And then….” “You even spoke about the woman from your first love and your relationship with her.” “What? Did I really say even that?” “You certainly did say that.” “There’s nothing to be surprised about.” “You normally talk about things like this to your friends.”

“I might have talked about that.”

“There’s no need to feel ashamed just because someone heard that.”

“Since that’s a fact, I’ll never feel ashamed.” “You still revealed many facts.”

“What kind of things did I say?” “You’ve already spilled all the secrets from those plans you’ve been harboring—things you’d rather not have others hear.”

“What? Did I really say such a thing?”

“You certainly did say it—you hate staying long in this gloomy building.” “You said you wanted to go to a distant land, but couldn’t get there on your own.” “Did I say that?” “You seem quite the fantasist yourself.”

III

"If that were all fine." "You harbor strange suspicions toward those living in this building." "Toward A,C,D—and even me—you harbor strange suspicions." "…" "You even spoke of things that would surprise you yourself." "I can’t tell you that secret."

“Please let me hear that.” “Submit to hypnosis again.” “I refuse.”

“Do you think you can escape from this place?” “I refuse.” “I will never fall for it again.”

B clenched his fist and stood rigidly. His body trembled violently. Yet a shadow of terror lingered on his face. He tried to push K aside and move toward the exit.

“Where are you going?” K said, grabbing B’s arm.

“Ha ha ha ha! You’re already under!” he said in a cold voice near his ear.

“What, you think I’m under?!” B retorted, shaking off K’s arm and colliding with the door.

"It's no use," K said in a composed voice, then gently wrapped his hand around B's waist as though embracing a woman's hips. He then swiftly stroked B's eyelids. "There! You're under!" "You're under now!"

He released his hands from B's body and gazed coldly down at him. B's body staggered unsteadily as it began to collapse. K slowly laid B's body down on the white floor. The red tie appeared blackened in the dull gray light seeping through the window. The tall black figure stood darker than the night itself. Sunken eyes glittered from their depths as he opened his mouth and laughed coldly—"Hahahahaha!"—while surveying the room. There was no sound. Outside, only the wind blew. Now and then came the rattling of the glass door. B's corpulent form, clad in mouse-gray clothes, lay stark against the white floor like a marble-carved statue. K extended his slender hand and crossed B's hands over his chest.

Stepping back two or three steps, he took out a pocket watch from the inner pocket of his black suit. The gray light reflected off its silver surface and glowed with a dull, leaden hue. 3:20...

K pressed his mouth to B’s ear. His eyes turned white as he smirked coldly....

“Wait!” K stood up, firmly closed the exit door, and engaged the inner lock. The clang of the iron piece rebounded, echoing through the silent room. The mouth of the unconscious, collapsed person kept moving ceaselessly. K returned to his original seat. He knelt beside B and pressed his mouth to his ear. “Alright! And then….”

Nothing could be heard.

Outside, only the wind was blowing. Occasionally, the wind rattled against the glass windows. ……Nothing could be heard. ……At times, K would turn this way, his eyes turning white as he smirked coldly—an expression more chilling than fearsome.……

A crow passed close by the window. Without even letting out a hurried cry...

IV

The treetops of the gloomy surrounding forest were moving incessantly. The wind was constantly striking the glass windows.

In the spacious dining hall and waiting room, sixteen people gathered and surrounded K. K's complexion was pale, and his hair was disheveled. They crossed their arms and stared fixedly at K’s face.

“Who was sacrificed?” “B… was.” Once again, the surroundings fell completely silent. “Director, you should just say it…,” one said. “It’s growing dark.” “What are you thinking?” “……” K spoke in a grave voice.

“For several days, I conducted research without sleeping at night or eating.”

“There are no mysterious facts in the world. “What I had until now considered mysterious was nothing but the subconscious…” “If research continues progressing at this rate, I believe even the soul will soon be explicable through scientific means.” K’s expression grew even more grave, a look of feigned sorrow spreading across his face. “B-kun has become a sacrifice. “He willingly volunteered to become a test subject. “Not only have we advanced our research on the subconscious, but through this experiment, we have discovered that humans harbor secrets utterly contradictory to their everyday personas.”

“What secrets could B have had…?” “Tomorrow, I will report the results of that research.”

“It’s already gotten dark.”

“Did B die?” a certain someone said.

V

The color of night hung lower and lower over the gray house like a black bird’s wing. In the darkness, the voice of the wind screamed sharply, and the stars hid. Nothing could be discerned through the glass.

K was peering intently into the darkness. Every so often, something would flap noisily and strike the glass window. It was louder than the sound of leaves scattering in the wind. It was not yellow dust rising from the parched ground. It was somehow the sound of a living thing striking the window.

Was it not a bird? If so，it wasn’t white． The lamp’s faint light still reached the window’s edge． White would have shown—even if dirt-stained like aged cotton． A black creature？ It must have been！ Why batter this pane？ Again came wingbeats—unmistakable． Yet their force waned． Wings meant for boundless skies now faltered．

Could it be a sick bird?

Could it be a bird with injured wings? Or could it be a bird that had lost its way in this darkness? A bird that had strayed from its path home. Having noticed this room’s lone light burning at midnight in the vast wilderness, it came fluttering toward it like a ship adrift on an ocean finding the beacon of life. And as it came, its wings grew feeble. The storm clattered against the window. Gradually, the storm intensified. The black bird left intervals between its collisions.

Or could it be that this storm hindered it, making flight impossible? The sound of the black bird had ceased!

The monster-like building lay sprawled across the flatland. The storm howled wildly as it circled around the building. It raced overhead. It kicked. It collided. The monster’s red eyes vanished one by one, until only a single remaining eye glowed crimson and alive.

K was still thrusting his nervous eyes into the darkness. The amber light of the lamp slipped into the red tie and the spaces between the black suit's stripes. The blue ink remained on the tip of the gold pen, into which the lamplight sank, appearing drowsy. The blue lines, numerous in their twists and turns, formed a procession and were laughing and fighting on the white paper like dead petals.

On the sixth sheet from the top among the overlapping papers: I want to go to a distant country soon. I want to go to a lively country. I want to escape from this gloomy building. What country is that? What is its name? I don’t know its name. Is it the south? It’s the south. When did I come to know that country?

“One time, I went out to town and bought a fragrant soap.” On its packaging, a crimson flower bloomed. A beautiful nude woman bathing in a lake surrounded by lush green leaves was depicted. At that moment, when I looked at the small gold letters wondering where this was made, it said “Paris.” On the thirteenth sheet, the blue lines twisted particularly as if shuddering.

“K is a demon; K in the black suit is a sorcerer—I can't resist. It’s no use. It’s no use. Demon! Demon!”

＊　　　　　　＊　　　　　　＊

K nodded. His long body was blacker than the color of night. He put his hand into his pocket, and his face turned pale. It turned bluer than the color of the ink. At that moment, as if mocking, the storm screamed outside the window.

Rustle, rustle went the sound. It was the sound of dead leaves that had scattered on the ground being blown up by the wind and hitting the window.

K remained standing and listened to this suspicious sound. He began pacing hurriedly around the room.

The black night pressed against the window. It began to spread its large wings.

It was midnight.

Earlier, the three friends had conversed outside the deceased B's door.

A knocked on the door with his fist—knock, knock.

“B-kun!” “B-kun!” But there was no sound.

C, who had been deep in thought, searched for the key. Then, taking a small shiny object from the pocket, he tried fitting it into the lock, but it didn’t catch.

A knocked again.

“B-kun! “B-kun!” “Open up, I beg you.”

S uttered gloomily.

“He can’t hear.” “K must have this key.”

A and C exchanged glances.

“What sort of person is K?” said A.

“Well… I don’t know,” said C, his eyes glowing strangely.

“K must have killed him,” said S.

“No, that’s absolutely not the case,” denied A. “When day breaks, we’ll know,” said C.

“We trusted K too much. B always disliked K. I don’t like K very much. We must be cautious,” said S.

“We’ll know once day breaks.”

With that, A, C, and S left the front of B's door.

The storm grew ever more violent.

On the white floor, in the darkness, B lay. There was not even the faintest sound in this room. The swollen corpulent body was half out of the bed. He was firmly gripping a small bottle. That was the bottle that had contained chloroform. The hand that had been firmly gripping the bottle was outside the bed. The sound of the storm grew increasingly violent. The monster's house began to shake. A large indistinct gray shadow! A giant with no eyes, no mouth, and no nose stood by B's bedside. Once when B was about to enter K's room, it had been the shadow that stood behind.

“Quickly, hide that bottle!” Soundlessly, chillingly, the body lying in the darkness—and its hand—moved. Then it hid the bottle.

The sound of a key shattering the silence!

Soundlessly, an even darker hole opened within the darkness. Before long, the hole closed again, and the darkness was painted a single hue. A blue light flashed out. The narrow room burned in a deep blue. Simultaneously, the sunken eyes of K—clad in black—gleamed. He stood gripping the flashlight, listening intently for a while.

There was no sound. He began frantically searching the room... K’s complexion was as deathly pale as B’s corpse.

“Gone!” Once again came the sound of wings striking the window. Flap! Flap! Flap!