Chapter 4: Short Days

It was already December, but the weather still felt as warm as spring.

There was still a trace of cold in the early morning, but by noon the sky was high and clear, and soft light spread across the streets. During lunch break, some people even went as far as Chidorigafuchi or the Imperial Palace area to bask in the sun.

This kind of mild late-autumn weather was what they meant by Indian summer, and Kuki remembered a passage from Essays in Idleness.

"October is the season of Indian summer."

That famous line by Priest Kenko showed that even in the medieval era, people already knew the warmth and brightness of early winter days.

Indian summer was a lovely name. Compared with true spring, it felt brief and unreliable, and that was why it had been given such a name. Compared with modern people, the people of old, closer to nature, felt far more tenderness toward the seasons.

By rights, December should have brought the season of bitter north winds, but this Indian-summer weather suggested that Japan's climate was warming.

Lost in idle thoughts, Kuki walked through the bright streets and went into a coffee shop, where Goro Mizuguchi was already waiting for him.

"Have you eaten yet?"

"Not yet. I'm not in a hurry."

Kuki and Mizuguchi sat across from each other and ordered coffee.

"Sorry to make you come all the way here."

Mizuguchi was one year older than Kuki. They had joined the company in the same class, and Mizuguchi had once served as editor-in-chief of a monthly magazine before taking a managerial post.

"Did you need something from me?" Kuki asked. Mizuguchi lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and said,

"Here's the situation. Starting next year, I'm being sent to the Maron branch office."

The Maron branch belonged to Modern Bookroom, and it was also located in Kanda.

Since the new president had taken office, there had been major personnel changes. But Mizuguchi had not been in his post long, and he was also on good terms with the current president, so Kuki found it surprising.

"Did the president tell you himself?"

"Yesterday he called me in and said that President Amano's health is poor and we're short-handed, so I absolutely have to go there."

Amano was the president of the Maron branch, two or three years older than Mizuguchi, and had diabetes, which kept him from coming in every other day.

"So you're going there as president, huh?"

"Vice president. Amano isn't being moved for now."

"That's only a matter of time."

"Who knows. Even if I become president, it won't amount to much."

The Maron branch mainly published practical books that the head office did not handle, and it had about twenty employees. From what he had heard, its business wasn't going well.

Mizuguchi had always hoped to rise from managing director to director, so naturally he was not satisfied with a president of that level.

"And you agreed to it?"

"I haven't done anything wrong, so how could I just agree that easily? What do you think?"

Mizuguchi said irritably as he drew on his cigarette.

"I only said I needed time to think. But the president has already made up his mind."

"So it really is 'not that autumn comes only after summer is gone.'"

"What do you mean?"

"It's a line from Essays in Idleness, from the passage about October being the season of Indian summer. It means that autumn doesn't arrive only after summer ends; the signs of autumn are already forming in the midst of summer."

"Makes sense..."

"In nature or in personnel matters, things often seem as if they suddenly changed all at once, but in reality the shift has already begun quietly behind the scenes. You just haven't noticed it yet, right?"

As he said that, Kuki suddenly thought of Rinko and himself.

If their relationship now was like midsummer, then autumn's breath was already hidden inside it. Could it mean things would go downhill from here?

Mizuguchi, unaware of Kuki's thoughts, clicked his tongue in resentment and said, "No matter how you look at it, being a company man is miserable. Once they decide you're no good, they throw you away like scrap paper."

"Don't be so pessimistic. If it's managed properly, the Maron branch can turn around."

"No matter how hard I try, it'll be pointless. Now I finally understand how you must have felt back then."

"Don't compare yourself to me."

"If I had known how things would turn out, I should have had my fun with you back then instead of holding back."

Since the day he joined the company, Mizuguchi had sailed along smoothly, full of ambition.

He had both the talent to edit magazines and the aptitude of a manager; he was capable, articulate, and quick on his feet.

Maybe because he was too sharp and competent, the president had ended up keeping a certain distance from him.

Compared with him, Kuki had always been working the literary field, where he had more chances to deal with manuscripts and authors.

It would be a lie to say he didn't want to be promoted, but he also did not tire of the alluring world of literature.

You could say that Kuki's craftsman's temperament was what made him content to spend his life as an ordinary editor.

"I guess I need to learn to live like you do."

Mizuguchi's words had a bitter edge to them. A man like him would never be content with loneliness.

"Most people go to a branch office and just settle down there, but I can't do that."

A man's mood was often shaped by promotion or demotion, but Mizuguchi had not yet lost his fighting spirit.

"You always have so much energy."

"Yeah. I need to find a woman to get me fired up."

Mizuguchi said it without thinking, but Kuki heard it with a different meaning.

In the end, Mizuguchi treated love as nothing more than an impulse to stimulate his work and add a bit of flavor to life, while for Kuki, love was far heavier and far more profound.

Whenever he thought of his love for Rinko, Kuki's heart filled not only with joy but even more with distress and pain.

"You're impressive. You're always so relaxed, and you look even more spirited than you used to." Mizuguchi had no idea what Kuki was carrying. "This is the first time I've run into something like this, so I can only talk to you about it."

"Don't overthink it."

When Kuki had been dismissed, he had been deeply troubled too, but he couldn't keep thinking that way forever. Whether he could get his mind in order would affect the rest of his life.

"Can I come talk to you again later?"

"Of course. Anytime you want."

After getting it off his chest, Mizuguchi seemed calmer, and the two of them chatted a little longer about a few personnel changes inside the company before parting ways.

Kuki went to a nearby soba shop for lunch, then returned to the office, where a call came in from Ikegawa.

"How are you doing? You okay?"

Since the last reception, he hadn't seen Ikegawa at all, almost a month now.

"Same as always. How about you?"

"Still buried in work."

Ikegawa then went on about how the number of lectures had increased lately but the number of students hadn't, how the business was lousy, and so on, before suddenly changing the subject.

"Have you thought about changing companies?"

Kuki was caught off guard and didn't know how to answer. Ikegawa explained,

"The place I used to work is planning to strengthen its publishing department and expand its literary offerings."

The place Ikegawa had worked was a famous newspaper company. Its main business was publishing newspapers, while the other departments were only auxiliary, and publishing was one of them. By the standards of an ordinary publishing house, it was relatively weak.

"If the newspaper company wants to grow from here on out, it can't rely on newspapers alone, so they're planning to put more energy into publishing too. In the future, they even want to publish paperback editions."

"But isn't it a little late to start now?"

"That's why I'm calling you."

Kuki roughly understood. Ikegawa was asking whether he would be willing to work in the newspaper company's publishing division.

To be hired by another company after being demoted to a branch office was a real twist of fate. Life was impossible to predict. Kuki asked, "So why me...?"

"Is it okay to talk about this on the phone?"

Ikegawa worried that it might be inappropriate to discuss it at the office. Kuki looked around the room and saw only Suzuki there; even if he overheard, it wouldn't matter, so he said, "It's fine."

Ikegawa relaxed and gave him a detailed explanation.

"Here's the thing. The current head of publishing, Kanoda, joined the company two years before I did. He's a senior to me. A few days ago I brought up your name with him, and he told me that if possible, I should definitely ask whether you'd be interested in coming over."

"That's really something. It's just so sudden that I wasn't prepared for it."

"You don't have to answer right away. By the time everything is ready, it'll already be next spring, so there's no rush. But the division head is quite interested in you, and he said he'd like to meet you if there's a chance."

"Has he always worked in publishing?"

"No, he used to be in the social affairs department. He's very forceful and never likes to sit still."

Kuki, who was bored out of his mind at the moment, was genuinely grateful for Ikegawa's kindness, but it wasn't something he could answer on the spot.

"Thanks for thinking of me. Let me think it over first."

"No problem." Then Ikegawa lowered his voice. "How is she lately?"

He meant Rinko.

"She's all right..." Lately they had been calling each other almost every day, but rarely seeing each other.

Ever since they spent two nights in Hakone, Rinko had hardly gone out. Even when they did meet, she would hurry home as soon as it struck nine o'clock.

Rinko had only said, "Just bear with it a little longer," and had given no further explanation. Most likely something had happened between her and her husband.

Kuki was already worried about Rinko, so Ikegawa's mysterious tone put him on alert.

"Don't tell me something happened..."

At Kuki's urging, Ikegawa paused before saying, "I doubt she'd go as far as running away from home."

"Why do you say that?"

"Nothing concrete. It's just that three days ago she came to the center to see me on purpose."

Kuki had spoken with Rinko by phone just yesterday, and she hadn't mentioned any of this at all.

"At first she was evasive. After I kept pressing, she finally said she hoped she could continue serving as a lecturer at the center."

"That's not something she can decide on her own."

Rinko had originally been teaching calligraphy at the center as a temporary lecturer in place of her teacher, and without his permission it wouldn't work. The original lecturer was Rinko's teacher.

"Did the master say he wanted her to replace him?"

"No. It was her own idea." Then Ikegawa asked slyly, "She didn't let anything slip to you?"

"I think she may have mentioned it, but..."

"According to her, she wants to study calligraphy seriously, or maybe she just wants the money."

"The money?"

"If she wants to be a long-term lecturer, isn't that because of the pay?"

That was true enough, but Rinko didn't seem like someone short of money. And if she were truly in trouble, she would have told him.

"What is she really thinking...?"

"I don't know. She came specifically for that matter, and my guess is that she probably wants to leave home and live independently."

Kuki had never imagined that Rinko would be thinking of running away from home, and he had had no idea she wanted to keep working there either.

"Will they hire her?"

"Probably. Lecturers are hired by the center, so as long as the center agrees, it's fine."

"Isn't it awkward to do that without going through her teacher?"

"I can't really say. At any rate, she's the type who acts boldly."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Don't take offense, but I always get the feeling that once she decides on a path, she never looks back."

Kuki didn't want to hear Ikegawa gossiping about her, but Rinko did, in fact, have a tendency to go to extremes.

Still, why hadn't she discussed something so important with him beforehand? Kuki didn't understand her real intentions and stayed silent. Ikegawa cautiously asked, "Sounds like you didn't know about it?"

At this point there was no need to hide it anymore, and Kuki nodded.

"Things haven't been very smooth between you two lately?"

"No, not at all."

They no longer went away on trips the way they had before, but they still saw each other once or twice a week. Since Rinko's time was limited, every meeting ended the same way: after a spell of lingering embrace, they would part in a hurry.

"I don't want to pry into the two of you..." Ikegawa paused. "There's nothing wrong with her wanting to work, but she should at least have told you."

"It doesn't matter to me. Thank you for being willing to hire her."

"You should talk it over with her carefully again," Ikegawa added. "She looked pretty unhappy."

In Kuki's mind, Rinko's expression surfaced again: those tightly furrowed brows and that suffocating look of pain she wore when she was at the height of excitement. Gripping the phone, he closed his eyes.

Kuki wanted to contact Rinko right away, but it wasn't convenient from the office.

He lit a cigarette and thought about how he should talk to her.

First he needed to ask why she wanted to become a full-time lecturer at the center. Ikegawa thought it was for the money, but was it really that simple? Ikegawa had also said Rinko looked troubled; maybe she was even thinking of running away from home.

Whatever the case, why hadn't she told him about something this important beforehand?

There was no point in endlessly guessing on his own. He should arrange to meet her first.

Kuki flipped through his notebook. Once December began, year-end parties and receptions came one after another, and he already had plans for both tonight and tomorrow night.

But if Rinko could make time, he would skip whatever he had to skip and go see her, so he could hear her own thoughts directly.

Once he had calmed down, Kuki put out his cigarette, picked up his mobile phone, and left the room.

As always, he went to the stairwell corridor to make the call. After checking that no one was around, he dialed her number.

It was 2:30 in the afternoon. Unless something special had come up, Rinko should have been home at this hour.

The ring sounded several times before someone answered. He thought it might be Rinko, but instead a man's voice came through the receiver.

"Hello? Hello?"

Kuki instinctively pulled the phone away and held his breath.

After a moment, he heard "Hello? Hello?" again, and Kuki quickly hung up.

Rinko didn't have any children. Could that man have been her husband?

He was said to be forty-five, but the voice sounded quite young.

The question was why he would be home at this hour.

He was a professor at the medical school, and in principle he shouldn't have been home during the day except on holidays.

Maybe something urgent had come up and he had returned, or maybe he had caught a cold and was resting at home.

But the way he spoke didn't sound like someone with a cold. Something must have happened at Rinko's house.

The more Kuki thought about it, the more uneasy he became, and he desperately imagined all sorts of possible situations.

Could the two of them be arguing at home?

Maybe the husband had been repeatedly asking his wife why she had been going out so often lately, and they got into a fight; the wife, weeping uncontrollably, couldn't answer the phone, and the husband had picked up instead.

Then the person who called had hung up without saying anything, which made the husband even more suspicious, and he had started interrogating his wife again.

As if he were there himself, Kuki kept imagining the worst.

"Let's wait and see," he told himself. He didn't feel like going straight back to the office, so he went down to the company basement cafeteria and drank a cup of coffee.

Lunch hour was over, and the dining hall was nearly empty. Someone who knew him gave a slight nod and then left.

Drinking coffee alone in the middle of the day, with nothing to do, people would surely gossip about him behind his back.

The moment Kuki's mind wandered, it was immediately taken over again by Rinko.

Another thirty minutes passed. Would Rinko be the one to pick up this time? If it was her husband again, he could just hang up. So he left the cafeteria, slipped back into the stairwell, and called Rinko's house again.

This time Kuki was ready to hang up at any moment. Just like before, it rang for a long time with no answer.

The man had picked up on the fifth ring earlier, but this time no one answered even by the first ring.

Kuki hung up, waited a minute, and dialed again. It was the same.

So Rinko's husband had gone out later, and Rinko herself wasn't there either.

Kuki felt half relieved and half disappointed as he leaned against the wall and fell into thought.

Where on earth had Rinko gone...?

Until now, Kuki had always believed that if he wanted to talk to Rinko, he could reach her anytime.

It seemed that the only thing connecting Rinko and him was a single phone line. The moment that line was cut, there was no way to trace her whereabouts.

If Rinko fell ill or disappeared somewhere, and she didn't contact him herself, there would be no way to find her.

He had thought the bond between them was solid, but it turned out to be so fragile. That was all an affair outside marriage amounted to, wasn't it?

Kuki missed Rinko more than ever and longed to see her.

But where could he look? No matter how anxious he was, it would be useless. He would have to wait until after evening, or until she called his mobile.

Kuki went back to his room dejectedly and resumed looking over the materials spread out on his desk.

Recently, for a history of the Showa era he was compiling, he had mainly been collecting materials on social customs from the early years through the 1930s, and in the process he had gradually become interested in the historical facts from that period.

Especially in the 1930s, when speech and thought were being suppressed, bloody incidents like the February 26 Affair increased, and so did obsessive love cases between men and women.

The Sada Abe incident was one of them.

At the time, Kisazo Ishida, who ran a restaurant in Tokyo's Nakano Ward, was strangled by Sada Abe, a waitress living at the restaurant, and his penis was cut off. This unprecedented and bizarre case caused a sensation in society.

What interested Kuki was not only the details of the case, but also the judgment handed down in this rare murder trial.

The prosecution had called for ten years' imprisonment, but the sentence was six years, and after serving time she was further granted a reduction for being a model prisoner, so she was actually released after only five years.

Through that lenient judgment, it was clear that the judge had not seen this as an ordinary murder case, but rather as a crime of passion brought on by the extremity of love, or madness caused by loving too hard.

In the aftermath of the February 26 Affair, as military power was rising and Japan as a whole was moving step by step into the darkness of war, why had this affair of infatuation, completely unrelated to militarism, been judged so lightly?

That was what interested Kuki. By collecting the defense arguments from the lawyers, the reactions of ordinary people, and so on, he was trying to view the Showa era from a new angle.

His thinking widened more and more, and it seemed the work would take far longer to finish than he had expected.

He kept reading while thinking about Rinko, and before he knew it, it was five o'clock. Winter days were short, and dusk had already begun to fall.

Editorial work had irregular hours. It was common to go out on interviews or to pick up manuscripts during the workday and not make it back to the office until after noon.

Leaving work was no different; if there was a proofreading job, it could easily stretch all the way past midnight.

In short, office hours were more or less meaningless. Work was determined mainly by the content.

Fortunately, Kuki's department didn't require much interviewing, so they usually came in around ten in the morning and left for home around six in the evening.

Tonight there was a year-end party for the research section, and as soon as it passed five, everyone stopped what they were doing and prepared to leave.

Kuki tidied up the materials he had been reading, put them back on the shelf, and left the company with his colleague Yokoyama.

The venue was a Chinese restaurant in Shimbashi. The two of them took a taxi, and as they neared Ginza, the roads began to clog up.

Once December arrived, the streets were bustling, and every restaurant and eatery was packed with customers.

That appearance of prosperity was only superficial. People, weary from a long stretch of recession, took the chance to drink heartily and forget the bleak year behind them.

They arrived a little earlier than planned. When they went up to the second floor and into the private room, no one else had arrived yet. Kuki turned back downstairs and used the public phone near the entrance to call Rinko.

It was almost six. If Rinko had gone out shopping nearby, she should have been back by now.

Still worried that her husband might answer, Kuki stood a little away from the receiver. The phone rang for a long time with no answer, so he hung up and tried again, but still no one picked up.

Where had she gone? Could the two of them have gone away together on a trip?"}}} 94*

When Kuki was standing by the phone, lost in thought, a few more coworkers came into the place, and he had no choice but to go upstairs with them for the year-end party.

The Investigations Section was under General Affairs. They used to always attend the General Affairs year-end party, but since the year before last they had started holding one of their own.

There were only five people at their party, including the female secretary, so the meal cost worked out to eight thousand yen per person.

Section Chief Suzuki stood up and made the toast. He started with the usual tired opening line about how the year was about to end and everyone had worked hard, then wrapped up by saying that in the new year they should all take on a fresh spirit and push their work forward even more.

It was Kuki's first time at the section's year-end party, and he felt Suzuki had a point: even though everyone in the Investigations Section worked in the same office, each person's job was completely different.

Then beer was poured into each glass and everyone clinked theirs together.

At first the conversation centered on personnel changes within the company and the latest rumors from the various departments, but as they talked, it drifted off, and some people began grumbling on and on.

After a few rounds of drinks, everyone loosened up a little and started joking and laughing.

The only woman in the Investigations Section, the secretary, became the center of attention that night. She wasn't beautiful, but she had real class, and everyone teased her.

She was thirty-five that year, had been married once, and was now on her own.

Someone asked whether she'd met anyone new she liked, and that led to a discussion of everyone's preferred type of woman. Once that kind of talk started, even the usually stern Suzuki joined in and asked, “Which one of us do you think women like best?”

“That's hard to say,” the secretary said after looking over the men at the table. “I can't tell who women would like best, but I feel like Kuki might have a lover.” The whole table burst into a chorus of “Ohhh...”

“What are you talking about?” Kuki said hurriedly, denying it, but he couldn't hold off the jealous men, who came at him one after another.

Suzuki led the attack. “I've been wondering why you keep using your mobile phone. Now I get it.” Yokoyama said, “No wonder you take your phone with you every time you leave the room.” Muramatsu, who was younger than Kuki, added, “You seem kind of pleased with yourself lately.”

Kuki denied it with all his might, but the more he denied it, the worse it got.

Everyone came to the conclusion that Kuki already had a lover, and the subject shifted to details like how they arranged their meetings.

“I ought to learn from you,” Suzuki muttered, not hiding his envy of romance.

Yokoyama, who had recently gotten a girlfriend, asked where Kuki took her on dates.

“Do you go to love hotels too?”

“Love hotels are out of date now. If you're going to take a woman you like somewhere, you should take her to a proper hotel. Otherwise it's embarrassing,” Suzuki said with an air of expertise.

Muramatsu objected, saying, “Going to a hotel every time is too expensive.”

“It's worth it if it makes the woman happy,” Suzuki said, then looked at Kuki again. “He has a house. His only daughter is already married off, and his wife works as a technical instructor at a ceramics factory, so money isn't a problem for him at all.”

As expected of the head of the Investigations Section, he knew everything.

“Unlike us, he doesn't have installment payments hanging over his head. He can take it easy.”

“If you go to another place for drinks, your wallet's empty before you know it. How are you supposed to enjoy yourself worrying about that?”

“If you want a good woman, you need money and time first.”

“Time isn't the problem for anyone here.”

With Yokoyama working them up like that, everyone's mood rose even higher. Right then, Kuki's mobile phone rang.

He usually kept it switched off when he ate with coworkers, but tonight he had left it on because of Rinko.

Kuki quickly got to his feet, took the phone as it kept ringing, and left the room. He didn't answer until he reached the stairwell.

“Hello, hello...”

The moment he heard the other person's voice, Kuki felt tears welling up. The phone audio was poor, and Rinko's voice came through amid a hiss of static, sounding far away.

“Thank God...” Kuki blurted out. “Where are you now?”

“Yokohama.”

“Hold on a second.”

It was too close to the room here, the corridor was narrow, and the noise of voices was all around him. Kuki pressed the phone to his ear, went down the stairs, and once he reached the lobby, quickly said, “Hello? Hello?” again.

“I'm here.”

Hearing Rinko's voice, Kuki finally relaxed and poured out his complaints.

“I called your house many times, but no one picked up.”

“I'm sorry. My father died.”

“Your father?”

“My family called me this morning to tell me, so I rushed back to my parents' house.”

Kuki knew Rinko's family home was in Yokohama, and that her father ran a furniture import-export company.

“What did he die of?”

“A heart attack. He was fine last night, and then this morning he just...”

Kuki hadn't expected something this serious. All this time, he'd been imagining something else entirely.

“I never would have guessed...” Kuki didn't know how to comfort her and could only mumble, “Don't be too hard on yourself.”

“Thank you.”

“Just hearing your voice makes me happy.”

That was Kuki's true feeling. Even though he knew asking to see Rinko at a time like this was inappropriate, he still couldn't hold back and said, “I want to see you.”

All day long, first Mizuguchi and Ikegawa had gone on about one thing and another, and then when he was looking for Rinko, he had heard her husband's voice too, so even after speaking with Rinko, Kuki still felt uneasy.

“Either today or tomorrow is fine.”

“I don't have time.”

“When will you be free?”

“Next week, maybe...”

It was Wednesday today; there were still two or three days left until next week.

“I need to say something to you in person.”

“What is it?”

“I can't say it over the phone. How long are you staying at your parents' house?”

“There’s the wake tomorrow, and the funeral the day after. I can't leave for those two days. I'll get in touch with you again.”

“Wait a second.” Kuki gripped the receiver tightly, as if afraid it might slip away.

“Can you tell me your number there?”

“What good will that do?”

“You never know, I might have something urgent I need to reach you about.”

Rinko had no choice but to give it to him. After Kuki wrote it down, he casually asked,

“Is your husband there too?” Kuki asked abruptly. Rinko paused before saying, “Yes.”

“He's not going home too?”

“No, he is going home.”

Rinko's voice was blunt, and only then did Kuki finally let go of the tension he'd been carrying and hung up.

Knowing Rinko was safe, Kuki breathed out in relief, then immediately started worrying about her husband.

The man who answered the phone this afternoon was undoubtedly Rinko's husband. He must have come home to change into mourning clothes.

The couple had hurried back to her parents' home, exchanged polite words with the relatives who had come to pay their respects, and with Rinko in her black mourning clothes, elegant as ever, and her bright, handsome husband standing beside her, everyone envied the pair for being so well matched.

That made Kuki feel marriage was something solid and real.

A married couple can come and go together, can go anywhere, can meet anyone.

But a man and woman in an affair, not to mention public gatherings, can't even casually show up at private get-togethers.

A woman Kuki had once been involved with had complained that she'd never once appeared in public with him.

Only now did Kuki realize that he and Rinko were in exactly the same situation. No matter how much they loved each other, it had to stay secret, and there was no way they could ever go out together in public.

At last Kuki understood how fragile the bond between an unmarried man and woman really was. But who was there to blame for that?

Putting down the phone, Kuki returned to the lively year-end party with a head full of thoughts. The instant he walked back in, everyone applauded.

“Congratulations on getting in touch with her,” Yokoyama teased. Kuki had no choice but to deny it again.

“No, no. It's family business calling me.”

“You came sprinting out with your mobile phone like that, looked exactly like good news.”

At that point, there was no point in arguing. Kuki steeled himself and prepared to be the others' drinking snack, taking a sip of the Shaoxing wine someone had poured for him.

The year-end party was over before nine.

Suzuki, Yokoyama, and the secretary were going to karaoke, and since Kuki couldn't sing, he and Muramatsu went to a small bar in Ginza. The place had only one long counter, with room for maybe ten people at most.

Each of them ordered a whiskey with water, talked a little about work, and then Muramatsu suddenly asked, “So am I right to guess you've really got someone you like?”

Kuki nodded honestly. Muramatsu asked, “So you've already slept with her?”

“Calling it a pure love affair would be a little laughable, wouldn't it?”

“Actually, I've got a woman too, but these days I keep feeling like I don't have the stamina anymore. Age really catches up with you. How about you?”

Kuki found such a blunt question hard to answer, but Muramatsu, fueled by alcohol, kept pressing.

“Can you satisfy her every time?”

“Not always.”

“I'd like to control the pace too, but I just can't. I'll be honest with you, lately, whenever I finally get the chance to be alone with a woman, I keep running out of steam. I'm not as strong as I used to be.”

Muramatsu said this very seriously.

“Actually, deeper isn't necessarily better, you know.”

“Really?”

Kuki wasn't some seasoned ladies' man; he was only speaking from his own feelings, but Muramatsu listened and nodded.

“Maybe we've all been misled by porn.”

“In the end, technique is secondary. What matters most is feeling.”

Muramatsu agreed completely.

It went to show that men had their own worries and thoughts about sex too.

Kuki suddenly felt the distance between himself and Muramatsu shrink. The two of them ordered another whiskey and kept drinking until after eleven before heading home separately.

Stimulated by all that talk about sex, Kuki suddenly found himself longing intensely for Rinko.

Rinko had just said he wouldn't be able to see her for about a week, until next week, but Kuki couldn't contain himself. He knew it wasn't really appropriate to ask her out at a time like this, and yet he desperately wanted to hear her voice.

While Kuki was hesitating, he saw a phone booth by the roadside and, almost against his will, walked into it and dialed the number for Rinko's parents' home.

It was only because he was drunk that Kuki dared to do something like this.

Before long, an older woman's voice came through the receiver.

After giving his name, Kuki asked, “May I speak to Miss Rinko Matsubara?” Thinking he was a mourner, the woman immediately replied, “One moment, please.” Not long after, Rinko came to the phone.

“Hello, hello...”

The moment Kuki heard Rinko's voice, he was so excited he could hardly contain himself.

“It's me. Do you recognize my voice?”

“What's happened?”

Calling her parents' house in the middle of the night had clearly surprised Rinko.

“After talking to you, the more I drank, the more I missed you. I just couldn't hold back.”

Taking courage, Kuki asked,

“Can I see you?”

“How could that be? My father just...”

Kuki knew perfectly well he was asking for something unreasonable, but he still couldn't give up.

“How about tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow is the wake.”

“Even after it's over. I'll be waiting for you at some hotel in Yokohama.”

Rinko said nothing, and Kuki went on, “Tomorrow night I'll call you from the hotel. Even an hour or thirty minutes is fine.”

He kept trying to persuade her, wondering when he'd become so shamelessly persistent.

The day after the year-end party, Kuki came to work an hour later than usual, his head still foggy.

After the party last night, he and Muramatsu had kept drinking, but he hadn't actually gotten drunk until after he called Rinko and told her that no matter what, he wanted to see her.

Rinko was in the middle of grieving for her father's sudden death, so why had he made such an unreasonable demand? It made no sense.

Could it have been jealousy that she and her husband were staying together at her parents' house?

Kuki drank alone again in a sulk, and by the time he got home it was already the middle of the night.

At his age, drinking until one in the morning was bound to leave him unable to function the next day.

Kuki knew he shouldn't let himself go like that, but deep down he was relieved by how quiet things were at work.

Sitting down at his desk, he barely got through the material before making himself a cup of tea to shake off the fog. After another twenty minutes or so, he wanted to rest again.

He got through the day by half-dozing his way along like that, and by the time he got off work he was finally a little more clearheaded.

Last night, although Rinko hadn't explicitly agreed, he'd already said he was going to Yokohama, so he had to follow through.

Kuki ate a quick meal at a little place near the office, then caught the train from Tokyo Station to Yokohama.

As for the meeting place, naturally it had to be somewhere easy to find.

After thinking it over, Kuki went into a high-rise hotel in Minato Mirai, the same place where he and Rinko had once eaten together.

At first he planned to wait for her in the hotel's bar, but considering that Rinko would have spent a long time at the wake and would surely be exhausted, and that he himself was feeling tired too, he simply took a room.

The room was on the sixty-fourth floor, with windows facing the sea, and from it he could take in the beautiful night view and the bridge lit up with lights.

It shouldn't be too far from Rinko's parents' home in Yamate.

Kuki stood by the window, looking out over the dazzling lights before him, imagining the moment when he would embrace Rinko after she'd come straight from the funeral hall.

He didn't know what time the wake would end, or when Rinko's husband would go back to Tokyo. Clearly, if the husband didn't leave, Rinko couldn't get away.

At ten o'clock Kuki picked up the phone, thought it was a little early, and put it back down. At eleven he picked it up again. On this night of mourning, he was going to ask to see another man's wife.

Kuki felt both guilty and strangely proud of this immoral act.

The man who answered the phone did not sound like her husband.

As last night, Kuki spoke very politely. The man said, “You're looking for Miss Rinko, right?” and from his tone Kuki guessed he was probably someone from Rinko's father's company.

While Kuki was still in a daze, Rinko came to the phone.

“Hello, it's me. I'm in the Yokohama Hotel now.”

“Really?”

“I said last night that I'd come. I'm waiting for you at the hotel in Minato Mirai.”

After Kuki told her the room number, he urged, “Can you come right away?”

“You're awfully impulsive. I...”

“The wake's over, right? Is he there?”

“He left a little while ago.”

“Then what are we waiting for? This place isn't far from your house.”

If Rinko didn't come to the room, everything would be for nothing.

“Please. I need to talk to you about something important.”

After pleading with her for quite a while, Rinko finally gave in with reluctance.

“All right, I'll come now. But let me make one thing clear: just meeting, that's all.”

“Of course, of course.”

Kuki sat on the sofa and waited for Rinko while watching television.

From Rinko's parents' house to here was only about a fifteen- or sixteen-minute drive, and with time to get ready, it would probably take about an hour.

Kuki glanced absentmindedly at the TV screen and took a bottle of brandy from the minibar, mixing it with water as he drank.

It was almost midnight, and the late-night programs were nearing their end; the remaining channels were only previewing the shows that would start after New Year's.

Kuki turned off the television and went to the window to look out at the night view. Looking back over the past year, it seemed as if the whole thing had been spent from beginning to end for Rinko.

After he and Rinko slept together in the spring, it was like opposite poles of a magnet snapping together, or like a long drought finally meeting sweet rain. They had been impossible to separate, clinging to each other so tightly it was almost suffocating.

This had been the most passionate year of Kuki's life; the youth he'd forgotten felt as if it had come back to life.

He drank brandy one glass after another, and as he gazed down from the height of more than sixty floors at the dim, late-night streets below, he became even more hazy with drink, half imagining Rinko's figure in every glittering light.

Right now, Rinko must be passing through rows of tall buildings and blinking signal lights, heading into the hotel and running for the elevator.

He was waiting for that moment, pressing his forehead against the glass, when the doorbell rang.

He jumped to his feet, and the instant he opened the door he cried out, unable to stop himself, “Oh, I've been waiting for you so long.”

Standing there was Rinko, wearing a black mourning kimono and a black sash, a coat in one hand, her hair pinned up, her slender neck showing above the white collar.

Kuki took Rinko's hand and led her into the room, saying again, “You finally made it.”

He opened his arms and drew Rinko into them.

At that moment, Kuki had forgotten all about the wake and the mourning clothes. He kissed Rinko's lips with fierce hunger.

After a long kiss, Kuki let her go and studied her carefully.

“You have a unique allure.”

“Don't be ridiculous...”

Calling such a sorrowful outfit alluring was hardly appropriate.

“I thought maybe you weren't coming.”

“Who would dare disobey your orders?”

Rinko moved closer to the window and looked down.

“Is this your first time at this hotel?”

“First time in a room here.”

Kuki stood beside Rinko in her mourning clothes at the window.

“I was waiting for you like this, looking out the whole time.”

As he said that, Kuki took Rinko's hand. Her hand was cold. Maybe it was because she'd rushed all the way here through the deep night of early winter. Kuki warmed her hand and asked softly, “Has your husband gone home?”

“Mm. He went back.” Rinko's tone was very flat.

“I've been jealous of him this whole time.”

“Why...?”

“You two are married. I shouldn't be jealous at all, but I am. I'm jealous that you can stand shoulder to shoulder with people from the wake to the funeral and have everyone admire you.”

“So that's what hurts?”

“What hurts?”

“Because we're married, there's nowhere to hide and nowhere to run. Just now my aunt asked me, 'How are the two of you?' and my uncle asked, 'You're not planning to have children anymore?' They asked me everything.”

“They're really too nosy.”

“They know our relationship isn't exactly smooth, so they're worried about us.”

“If they knew you came here, that would be disastrous.”

A faint scent of incense drifted from Rinko's body, and Kuki had the strange illusion that he'd entered some fairyland. Without realizing it, he drew her toward the bed.

“No!” Rinko shook her head firmly.

“We won't do anything. We'll just lie down for a little while.”

“No, that won't do either. My hair will get messed up.”

Kuki still wouldn't let go and pulled Rinko to sit at the edge of the bed.

“Just sitting like this should be all right, shouldn't it?”

With her arm caught in his grip, Rinko had no choice but to raise a hand and smooth her hair.

“You really have to go back?”

“Of course. I said I'd only stay thirty minutes.”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, they could see the dark night over the vast sea. After a while, Kuki suddenly said, “Yesterday Ikegawa called and said you wanted to become a full-time instructor.”

“So he told you after all.” Rinko had already guessed.

“Why didn't you tell me beforehand?”

“I didn't want you to worry...”

“But can you even do that without your teacher's permission?”

“If there's any trouble with that, I'll ask the teacher to approve it.”

“Ikegawa also said you might be thinking of leaving home and living on your own.” “If I can leave, I will.”

Rinko's expression was unnaturally grave as she stared fixedly out at the night view beyond the window.

Kuki looked at her profile and laid his right hand on Rinko's knee.

"Then I'll run away from home too."

"Don't make this harder on yourself."

"How am I..."

"You can't do it."

"I can."

Kuki's tone grew firmer and firmer, and at the same time he suddenly slipped his hand into her mourning clothes and touched the underwear beneath.

Rinko tried to move his hand away, but he stubbornly kept working his way in between her thighs.

"Are you planning to take a proper job? Is that part of leaving home?"

"How is a person supposed to live with no income?"

"I won't let you suffer."

Kuki's hand kept pushing deeper until Rinko hastily squeezed her knees together.

The two of them sat side by side on the bed, as if they were admiring the night view, but on closer inspection the front of the woman's kimono had come open, and the man's hand was quietly slipping under the mourning clothes and into her underwear.

The woman understood perfectly what the man's hand was asking for, what it was searching for. She also knew that at a time like this, doing this was profoundly improper, something that could never be allowed. And yet she yielded to the desire that kept trying to draw her closer to it, and silently accepted it.

The man sensed the woman's indulgence, and moved the tips of his fingers back and forth in the space between her inner thighs, while keeping a perfectly serious expression.

It was all part of the man's strategy, a clever trap. The woman knew she should not take the bait, but her body had already begun to wet itself against her will.

By then, her body had slipped free of her mind and was moving on its own.

"I want you..."

When the woman still gave no response, the man said again, "Just for a little while."

Hearing that, the woman seemed to finally grasp how serious the situation was, and quickly shook her head. "Not now. Not like this."

The man caught the woman as she finally understood his intent and tried to escape, and issued his last, final order: "Stop talking. Turn around..."

None of this had been part of Kuki's plan.

He had heard of this position before, had always wanted to try it once, then abandoned the idea because it seemed too much. In other words, it had only ever been a fantasy in his head. He had never expected it to actually happen.

Sometimes, this way was necessary.

For example, in the old days, when famous geisha went out to banquets during the New Year in their formal layered kimono with their high shimada coiffures, if they wanted to steal a moment with the man they loved without disturbing their clothes, this was the perfect position.

If you were joining together for only such a brief time as a vigil night, it was the only position available.

That shameful posture was in fact the most primitive, the most natural one, handed down from the animal days that existed before human beings ever lived in this world.

Returning to that original wildness, there was no need for confusion, shame, or hesitation.

Civilization, refinement, morality, ethics, all the pretenses and masks that had seeped through every pore since the birth of humankind were flung far away, and they returned completely to natural instinct....

After the frenzy came an uncanny silence. That deathlike stillness announced the shadow of death that hovered over the peak of love.

The two of them remained motionless, sunk in that dead quiet. After a while, the man was the first to lift his limp body, and then the woman slowly came back to herself.

Only then did Rinko realize the unforgivable sin she had committed.

After she went into the bathroom, she stayed there for a long time. Five minutes, ten minutes, until more than ten minutes had passed and the door opened soundlessly at last, and Rinko finally came out.

Her eyes were lowered, her face pale, her expression one of utter remorse. Her kimono had been arranged neatly again, and her hair was not a strand out of place. She looked every inch the dignified woman in mourning clothes.

With no expression at all, Rinko silently walked to the sofa and picked up the coat folded there.

Seeing her like that, Kuki hurriedly asked, "You're going back?"

Rinko gave a slight nod and said something too muffled to make out.

Because he had forced Rinko into this state of remorse, Kuki had no idea how to apologize to her.

They stood facing each other at the doorway. Kuki lowered his head and said, "I'm sorry, but..." The man who had gone wild like a beast only moments before, once reason returned, was shocked and horrified by his own shamelessness.

"It's all my fault, but..." Kuki took a breath. "I wanted you too much."

It was an unadorned confession straight from the heart. Rinko heard it, slowly shook her head, and said in a tone that left no room for doubt, "No. It's my fault."

"It's not your fault."

"I'm going to be punished for this."

"If that's how it is..." Kuki held Rinko tightly and murmured, "If there has to be punishment, we'll bear it together."

If love belongs to both of them, then the woman's sin is the man's sin as well.

As though she had heard nothing at all, Rinko adjusted her collar once more, then opened the door with a blank expression.

Kuki wanted to kiss her again, but she walked out without turning back.

Kuki watched her figure recede and vanish around the corner of the hallway, then shut the door and went back to the bed to lie down.

Rinko never looked back. Perhaps she wanted to sever herself from that shameful act that could not be borne to remember.

Suddenly, Kuki's fingers touched something like a pin. He picked it up and saw that it was Rinko's hair clip.

Right. When Rinko had been bracing herself on the headboard just now, her head had been right here.

The scene from earlier surfaced in his mind again. The room was completely still, and only the abandoned hair clip remained as proof of their reckless lovemaking.

Holding the hair clip in one hand, Kuki imagined how Rinko would explain herself once she got home.

She had been here for nearly an hour, and with travel time included it would be about an hour and a half. People would surely wonder where she had gone in that span of time.

Her clothes and hair were still perfectly in order, so it should not raise suspicion, though some women might still think there was something strange about it.

No matter how much they thought about it, no one could imagine that on a vigil night they had come together in a position like that.

The key was how Rinko would act.

If guilt got the better of her, she might unconsciously let something slip and arouse suspicion, but he prayed that she would act as though nothing had happened. Just thinking of the blank look on her face as she left made him restless.

"I hope nothing happens..."

As he worried about Rinko, a flood of tenderness rose up inside him, and before he knew it he had pressed the hair clip to his lips.