Pathway to Japanese Literature

Part I

The gloomy building had small windows. The large gray monster seemed to have several eyes open. The monster had aged considerably. It was senile. When sunlight fell, vague shadows would spread across the flat ground—but under that overcast sky like a draped curtain of mouse-gray, they stood out thickly. The interior was divided into several rooms. All were rectangular chambers with walls painted gray. This structure appeared gloomy from without but grew profoundly more so within. Were it ever to stir from its stillness, none could doubt it would reveal itself a demon.

When night fell, red lamplight would ignite in these several eyes. It was because people lived inside. Therefore, it was not entirely the corpse of a dead monster abandoned in the wilderness. Even without moving, it retained a degree of vitality.

Broken benches and desks with scratches that had been painted over were placed in every room. The scratches on the desks were white gouges made with a small knife. There were X-shaped ones and S-shaped ones. Some scratches had been made intentionally. For instance, carvings like warship anchors were things someone had etched deliberately—perhaps imagining school insignia or war imagery—to stave off boredom. The remaining scratches had likely formed naturally. K remained seated on the bench writing something. He hadn't come to the dining hall last night either. B left his bed and went straight to K's room but hesitated, peering through a hole in the shoji screen. The previous night's lamp still burned dimly, vacantly, as though its soul had been drained. K was driving his pen across the paper with furious intensity.

Even after returning to his room, B couldn’t stop worrying about K. He threw his corpulent body down onto the pure white thick futon and began to writhe. What could K be writing……

B couldn't stop worrying about what K was doing. B found himself strangely unable to resist anything K said.

B came to K’s room again. While worrying about what was happening inside, he bent down and peered through. As expected, K was moving his pen. At times, the gleam of the gold pen flashed sharply. It was when the pen pressed hard and caught on the paper’s grain. The pen moved with tremendous speed. There was scarcely any time to breathe or dip the pen in ink. B tilted his head, his swollen face tinged with anxiety. The gray building lay submerged in the damp morning air, quiet. In B’s eyes, the pen—sharp as a bee’s stinger—moved across the paper with vivid clarity. In the wake of its motion, it scrawled something unsettling in blue liquid… and in the blink of an eye, raced on for three, four lines.

B shook his large head and attempted to walk, but moving this body—as if it no longer belonged to him—became laborious.

The breakfast bell seeped through the cold air. B, as if hiding his body in this corner, watched the people pushing open the door and entering. All of them wore lifeless faces, trembling as they silently took their seats. Before long, bowls of steaming white broth were distributed before each person. B had only eaten a small amount and was still fixing his restless gaze on the doorway. One by one, latecomers entered, but after that, no one else came. The only one who didn’t come was K.

B was beside himself with anxiety.

As expected, K must be writing something about me. If not that, what could he be writing?…… Still unable to swallow his food, B kept staring at the doorway, thinking K might yet come late.

Amidst this, one person stood up from their seat and left. Another person left. Three left; four left. B sank into despondency, convinced that it was hopeless.

"Maybe I should just go into K's room and casually ask, 'What are you writing?'" he wondered. No, that wouldn't do. On the contrary, if he saw my face, he might develop some unforeseen negative impression and write unnecessary things. Moreover, if what he was writing now didn't concern my own circumstances, seeing my face might reinforce the impression and make him focus on me after all. I concluded it would be best not to show my face at this juncture.

B went outside the building alone and sat down on a stone. Grimy clouds scudded across the sky. Winter’s departure was still some time away. The treetops of the frozen grove stood bare and agonizing.

Within the bruised face, small intimidated eyes lurked. His head ached as if being churned, and his vision gradually blurred. In the distance lay a forest. Beyond the forest stood a house. People lived there…… If one went far enough, there would be a different land. And he felt one might dwell there without being weighed down by such gloom. B thought he could never reach that place through his own strength.

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

He looked up at the building resentfully. He prayed to God under his breath, nearly weeping……!

B came to K’s room for the third time. Again, he peered through the hole in the shoji. K was nowhere to be seen. B’s heart pounded as if he were on the verge of madness. Ah—this was the moment. I must see what he had written. From behind, there was a presence that whispered with hot breath.

“Hurry, hurry! K’s coming in right away.”

The figure who had whispered remained indistinct to B’s eyes—far larger than himself in build, towering in stature, its form blurred into vague hues. There were no discernible eyes. No mouth existed. Yet B felt no strangeness at its whispered words. He slid open the shoji and entered. The gold pen’s ink still glistened wetly. Countless pages lay written, though their number escaped comprehension. To B’s gaze, characters squirmed like insects across paper—each assuming capricious shapes alien to meaning. In that instant, he forgot characters entirely. Though he strained to decipher them, not one symbol yielded sense—these very marks he’d once intimately known… yet now B found himself incomprehensible to himself.

More than the characters, he was distracted by the glint of the gold pen. ……he could no longer comprehend himself sitting there dazed and doing nothing. ……Two minutes passed. ……Three minutes passed. ……Five minutes seemed to have passed. Footsteps sounded! B finally noticed and escaped the room. ……He turned around and, with morbid intensity, looked once more at the gold pen’s gleam.

II

With all that time, why couldn’t I read the characters? All I could see were blue lines riddled with jagged twists. Why didn’t my brain function? It doesn’t seem possible that I completely forgot the characters in that moment. Certainly, there was room in my mind.

From how the blue ink had stained the gold pen to even a sort of cadence gleaming in the gray light seeping through the window—all remained imprinted on my eyes.……

B writhed in anguish, tossing and turning on the white floor.

For a while, B, exhausted, fell asleep. Suddenly, he awoke from a terrifying dream.

Before him stood K. A red necktie was visible. The black suit stood out more distinctly than the color of night. His gaunt, tall figure—to B, it could only be seen as that of a magician.

His hair had grown long. His eyes were hollow, emitting a sinister glint.

“I’ve come to trouble you once more,” K stated coldly, without a hint of laughter. B remained silent.

“Won’t you let me hypnotize you once more?” B shuddered at these words, every hair on his body standing rigid. Outside, the wind had risen—a sound struck against the glass door. “Won’t you let me hypnotize you again?”

The taciturn K never makes requests like this.

B remained seated on the white floor, not moving a muscle.

“I already know all your secrets,” K said.

Even so, B remained silent. “Even if you refuse, I can still hypnotize you,” K laughed coldly. B realized that what K had been writing about earlier was indeed related to his own circumstances. “Did I tell you anything yesterday?” Unable to contain himself any longer, B said.

K stared coldly at B’s face as though trying to bore holes through it, and laughed. B, fearing he might be hypnotized during this exchange, deliberately kept his gaze averted downward. “I told you,” K said with a cold, eerie laugh. “What did you say?”

“You should’ve realized that yourself. Every secret you’ve kept in your heart—you’ve already confessed them all.”

And K sneered. “What gives you the right to pry into other secrets?” B involuntarily turned crimson. “But didn’t you permit me to hypnotize you?” “I may have allowed the hypnosis, but I never authorized you to extract secrets!” B snapped. The gaunt, towering K laughed coldly—ha ha ha ha ha—his sunken eyes glinting. “Once entranced, you’re mine." “You’ll exist wholly at my discretion.”

“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 drawing himself up slightly.

“What do you mean it’s impossible? I will never become your property.”

“No—you must have already lost all capacity to resist me.” “You regard me as utterly terrifying.” “You see me as a great man and have become my slave.”

“What?……” “You will bend to my will. For the rest of your life, you must remain under my control.” “What? I don’t understand your meaning.” “You understand perfectly well. At any rate, I require you to submit to my hypnosis once more today.” K softened his tone, speaking to B as though making a request. “I refuse. I’ll resist to the very end.” B mustered his courage, stood up, and seated himself on the bench. “Then we’ve no alternative. I have faith in my own power.” “I’ll prove I can hypnotize you at will—permission be damned,” said K, positioning himself before B.

“Wait,” said B, springing back from the bench.

K hurriedly blocked the exit door to prevent him from escaping. “I’m not running anywhere. But I have something to ask you.”

said B. K strode over and blocked B’s path. “I won’t let you escape.”

“What did I tell you yesterday?”……

“What would you do upon hearing that?” K’s laughing face contorted into a scowl. “I simply want to hear it.” “You disclosed every secret.”

“What will you do with those secrets now that you’ve heard them?” “That’s not for you to be told.” “What did I talk about?” “You spoke of your birthplace. Next, starting with your parents’ names, you spoke about the school you attended……” “And then…?” “You spoke about your time at school.”

“And then…?” “You spoke about your first love and even your relationship with her.” “What? Did I really say something like that?”

“You absolutely said it.” “There’s nothing to be surprised about.” “You normally tell your friends such things after all.” “I might have spoken about that.” “No need to feel ashamed even if people hear it.” “Since it’s a fact, I’m not ashamed in the least.” “You disclosed many more facts.” “What did I talk about?” “You spilled every secret from those plans you’re nursing—things that’d cause trouble if others knew.”

“What? Did I really say something like that?” “You most certainly did say: ‘I hate staying long in this gloomy building.’” “‘I want to go to a distant country, but I can’t manage it on my own.’” “Did I really say that?”

“You really are quite the dreamer.”

III “If that were all there was, it would be fine. “You hold strange ideas about those living in this building. “You hold strange ideas about A, C, D—even about me.”

“……” “You revealed things that would surprise even yourself.” “I can’t say that secret.” “Please let me hear that.” “Submit again.”

“I refuse.”

“Do you think you can get away from here?”

“I refuse.” “I will never fall under again.”

B stood rigidly with his fists clenched. His body was trembling violently. Yet a shadow of terror lingered on his face. He tried to push past K toward the exit.

“Where do you think you’re going?” As he said this, K seized one of B’s arms. “Hahahaha! You’re already under!” he said in a cold voice close to his ear. “No way I’m falling for that!” B retorted, shaking off K’s arm and collided with the door. “It’s no use,” K said in a composed voice, gently wrapping his hand around B’s waist as if cradling a woman’s hips. Then he swiftly stroked B’s eyelids. “There! You’re under! You’re already under!”

With that, he released both hands from B’s body and gazed coldly at him. B’s body swayed unsteadily and began to collapse. K slowly laid B’s body down on the white floor. The red necktie appeared darkened under the dull-colored light leaking from the window. The tall black figure was blacker than the color of night. His sunken eyes gleamed from their depths as he opened his mouth and laughed coldly—"Hahahaha!"—surveying the room. There was no sound. Outside, only the wind was blowing. Occasionally, there was the sound of something hitting the glass door. The corpulent body of B, clad in a grey suit, stood out starkly on the white floor like a carved marble statue. K stretched out his thin hand and made B cross his hands over his chest.

Taking two or three steps back, he pulled out a pocket watch from the hidden pocket of his black suit. The gray light reflected off the silver, casting a dull gleam. 3:20... K pressed his mouth to B’s ear. His eyes whitened as he grinned coldly.……

“Wait!” K stood up, firmly closed the exit door, and locked it from inside. The clang of iron rebounded through the silent room. The unconscious man’s mouth kept moving. K returned to his original seat. He knelt beside B and pressed his mouth to his ear. “There!” “And then….”

Nothing could be heard.

Only the wind blew outside. Occasionally came the sound of wind striking the glass window. ……Nothing could be heard. ……At times when K turned this way, his face—grinning with whitened eyes as he laughed coldly—felt less fearsome than chilling.... A crow passed near the window. Without so much as a hurried caw……

IV

The treetops of the gloomy surrounding forests were moving incessantly. The wind was ceaselessly striking the glass window.

In the spacious dining hall that also served as a waiting room, sixteen people gathered and surrounded K.

K’s complexion was pale, his hair disheveled. They all clasped their hands, staring fixedly at K’s face.

“Who was sacrificed?” “B—he was.” Once again, the surroundings fell into profound silence. “Headmaster, you should just say it already…” said one of them. “It’s getting dark already.”

“What’re you thinking?”

“……….”

K spoke in a somber tone.

“I spent several days without sleeping at night, abandoning meals to conduct my research.” “There are no mysterious facts in the world. What I had until now considered mysterious was nothing other than the subconscious….” “If research continues progressing at this rate, I believe it will eventually be possible to explain even the soul through scientific means.”

K’s already grave countenance grew clouded with sorrow. “B-kun has become a sacrifice. He willingly offered himself as a test subject. The research on the subconscious goes without saying, but through this experiment, it has become clear that humans possess secrets that contradict—are entirely at odds with—their everyday personas.” “What secrets could B have had…?” “Tomorrow, I will report the results of that research.”

“It’s already gotten dark.”

“Is B dead?” someone said.

V

The color of night hung low over the gray house like the wings of a black bird. In the darkness, the voice of the wind screamed sharply, and the stars vanished. Nothing could be discerned through the glass.

K stared fixedly into the darkness, his gaze piercing through the void. At intervals came a loud rustling as something struck the glass window. The sound surpassed that of wind-scattered leaves. It was not yellow dust whirling up from bone-dry earth. This was the impact of something alive.

Could it be a bird? For a bird，it was not white. The lamplight，though weak，had reached the window’s edge. If white，it should have been visible. Even if not snow-white，something like soiled cotton would still show. A black bird perhaps? It must be a black bird! Why would a black bird strike this window? Again came that rustling impact. Unmistakably wings—yet their force waned. Wings meant for vast skies now struck weakly.

Could it be a sick bird or something? Could it be a bird with damaged wings, perhaps?

Or could it be a bird that had lost its way in this darkness? A bird that had strayed from its path home. In this vast wilderness, having glimpsed the solitary lamp burning in this room at midnight, it had come fluttering toward it like a ship adrift on the open sea finding a beacon of salvation. And in coming, its wings had grown feeble. The storm clattered against the window. Gradually, the tempest strengthened. The black bird now left pauses between its collisions.

Or could it be that they cannot fly because this storm is hindering them? The sounds of the black birds had ceased! The monster-like building sprawled across the flatland. The storm howled wildly as it circled around its perimeter. It raced over its head. It kicked. It collided. The monster’s red eyes vanished one by one, until only one remained—a crimson, festering orb pulsating with life. K was still thrusting his neurotic eyes into the darkness. The amber glow of the lamp crept into the red necktie and the spaces between the stripes of the black suit. The blue ink clung to the tip of the gold pen, and the lamplight sank into it, appearing drowsy.

The blue lines—complex with their many twists—formed a procession, laughing and battling upon the white paper that resembled dead petals. On the sixth sheet from the top among the overlapping papers, they want to go quickly to a distant country. They want to go to a lively country. They are saying they want to escape from this gloomy building.

“What country is that? What’s its name?”

“I don’t know its name.”

“Is it in the south?” “It’s in the south.”

“When did you learn about that country?”

“Once when I went into town, I bought a fragrant soap. On that wrapper, a crimson flower bloomed. There was a depiction of a beautiful nude woman bathing in a lake amidst thick green foliage. At that moment, when I looked at the small gold lettering wondering where this was made, it said „Paris.“

On the thirteenth sheet, the blue lines twisted with particular intensity, as if shuddering. "K is a demon. K in his black suit is a sorcerer—there's no resisting him." 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. His face turned bluer than the color of ink.

At that moment, as if mocking, the storm cried out beyond the window.

Rustle-rustle went the sound. It was dead leaves strewn across the ground, lifted by the wind to strike the window. K stood motionless, straining his ears at this uncanny noise. He began pacing frenetically about the room. The black night pressed itself against the windowpanes. It began unfurling vast wings.

It was midnight.

A moment ago, the three friends had talked outside deceased B’s door. A knocked on the door with his fist—knock, knock. “B-kun! B-kun!”

But there was no sound at all.

C, who had been deep in thought, searched for the key. And then, he took a small shiny thing from his pocket and tried fitting it into the lock, but it didn’t catch.

A knocked again.

“B-kun!

“B-kun!” “Open it, I implore you!”

S said despondently: “There’s no sound.” “K must undoubtedly have this key.”

A and C exchanged glances.

“What kind of person is K?” said A. “Well… I don’t know,” said C, his eyes glinting mysteriously.

“K must have killed him,” said S. “No, that’s absolutely not true,” denied A.

“We’ll know when morning comes,” said C.

“We trusted K too much.” “B usually disliked K.” “I don’t like K very much.” “We must be cautious,” said S. “We’ll know once morning comes.” With that, A, C, and S left the front of B’s door.

The storm grew increasingly violent.

On the white floor, within the darkness, B lay. There was absolutely no sound at all in this room—not even the faintest sound. The bruised, corpulent body lay half out of the bed. He was tightly gripping the small bottle. It was the bottle that had contained chloroform. The hand that was tightly gripping the bottle was outside the bed.

The sound of the storm grew increasingly violent. The monster's house began to tremble.

A vast formless gray shadow! An eyeless, mouthless, noseless giant stood at B's bedside. It was the shadow that had stood behind B when he had once tried to enter K's room.

“Quickly, hide that bottle!” Soundlessly and coldly, the body lying in the darkness moved its hand. It then hid that bottle. The sound of a key shattered the silence! Soundlessly within the darkness, an even darker hole opened. Before long, it closed again and painted the darkness a single hue. A blue light flared. The narrow room blazed deep blue. At the same time glinted K’s sunken eyes—he clad in black. He stood gripping his flashlight awhile longer, listening intently.

There was no sound at all.

He began frantically searching the room...... K’s complexion was as deathly pale as B’s corpse. “It’s gone!”

Again, the sound of wings striking the window. Thud! Thud! Thud!