It was two or three days later that I decided at last to commit suicide. Perhaps you will not understand clearly why I am about to die, any more than I can fully understand why General Nogi killed himself. You and I belong to different eras, and so we think differently. There is nothing we can do to bridge the gap between us. Of course, it might be more accurate to say that we are different simply because we are two separate human beings. At any rate, I have done my best in the above narrative to make you understand the strange person that is myself.
After delivering this long quote, Unaiko addressed the crowd directly, in her own words. “Look, I think for Sensei … as this quote says, he was perpetually obsessed with the question of the human heart — of the individual, by the individual, for the individual — and after having done his best to make his young friend understand this, he took his own life. But how can it be seen as a sacrifice on the altar of the spirit of Meiji? I keep going back to the idea that Sensei ultimately committed suicide as a kind of belated atonement, which is to say he did it for himself. If you agree, please feel free to throw as many ‘dead dogs’ as you like at those citizens in the audience who take a different view. Go ahead, everybody — knock yourselves out!”
3
Dear Kogii,
Until now I’ve mostly been writing to you about artistic projects and practical matters, but this letter is going to be much more personal. Of course, you probably have a pretty good idea of what I’m talking about. As you can imagine, the news I’ve just heard from Chikashi came as a tremendous shock, especially since it doesn’t involve one family crisis, but two.
Not only is your relationship with Akari at its lowest point ever, but Chikashi has recently been diagnosed with a serious illness. Fortunately, it sounds as though the doctors are optimistic about her prospects for recovery, which seems like a welcome ray of hope. As someone who worked as a nurse for many years, I know that while doctors sometimes withhold information and say only what they think a patient wants to hear, they wouldn’t resort to that type of sugarcoated subterfuge for someone as strong-minded as Chikashi.
Needless to say, you’re already fully aware of these very grave situations, and I must say I was surprised that you didn’t tell me what was going on with Akari. Instead, Chikashi, who is probably tired of watching you mope around, took the initiative and sent me a calm, rational account, which struck me as a perfectly appropriate thing to do. I can’t help remembering that you agreed to keep me abreast of any new developments after your return to Tokyo, and the deal was that instead of writing letters you would write things down on cards and someone would send me copies. You’ve been quite good about reporting on your recuperation from the Big Vertigo, but you didn’t say a single word about what happened between you and Akari.
Look, I know you’re upset because your relationship with Akari seems to be in an unprecedentedly precarious state, and it’s only natural for you to feel ashamed since it was your own behavior that created this mess. But we had a deal, and I was disappointed when Chikashi told me you’ve been writing detailed entries about this situation on the index cards you use instead of a diary, but you apparently instructed Maki (who has been transcribing selected notes on a computer and sending them via email) not to share them with me.
Speaking of Chikashi, how do you propose to deal with her illness? Because of the way you’ve been behaving recently, I don’t feel I can rely on you. I gather that Maki will be going over to your house and attending to the household chores, but Chikashi wrote that she would like to ask me, as an experienced nurse, to come up to Tokyo and lend a hand during her stay at the hospital as well as later, when she is recuperating at home. It goes without saying that I’ll be more than willing to do anything I can to help.
However, your strained relations with Akari are almost as concerning to me as Chikashi’s battle against cancer. To begin with, I gather you’re expecting Maki to handle the household matters and the administrative aspects of your professional work, and she can’t very well attend to Akari’s needs, too, while Chikashi is sidelined. Also, if Maki starts to feel stressed about having too many things to deal with, her chronic depression could flare up again.
As I was trying to figure out the best way to address the troubling issues raised in Chikashi’s letter, I received a typically thoughtful call about those very matters from Chikashi herself. She waited until I had finished mumbling my greetings and expressions of sympathy, and then she got right down to business. She didn’t sound like a patient at all; her way of speaking about her illness was completely pragmatic and unemotional. I know your family doctor has already briefed you on Chikashi’s medical situation, so I won’t repeat those details here.
Because Chikashi is the kind of person she is, before she called me she already knew exactly what she wanted. She confirmed that she wanted me to come to Tokyo and lend a hand in my capacity as a nurse, and she also said she’d like to send you and Akari down to Shikoku to spend some time in the forest. She had thought through all the details — that’s just her style — and I was happy that she felt she could depend on me. I was immediately on board with both facets of the plan, and I’ve already spoken with Unaiko and Ricchan about looking after you and Akari while you’re at the Forest House, once I’ve moved up to Tokyo to act as Chikashi’s private nurse. (That’s just my style.)
Here’s the thing, Kogii: Chikashi mentioned that Akari hasn’t been listening to music for the past six months or so. That news was almost as shocking to me as her cancer diagnosis, because music has been the most important thing in Akari’s life for as long as I can remember. Really, I haven’t felt so blindsided by anything since Goro committed suicide.
I think anyone who knows you could have predicted that you would be monumentally depressed after deciding to scrap your drowning novel, and the Big Vertigo may have affected your behavior as well. Even so, there’s no excuse for treating Akari the way you did. If Mother were still around, I can almost hear her saying something like “That’s downright disgraceful!” Medical explanations aside, you are a hundred percent responsible for everything you said to Akari and for the effect those horrible words have had on him. But I also know that apart from Akari, you’re the one who has been hurt the most by this, and I can’t help feeling very sad for you both. To be honest, though, I can’t get over what you did. I mean, how could you have behaved so heartlessly?
Chikashi talked about that situation, too, in her trademark cool, calm, and collected manner. She only got emotional about one thing, when she confided in me that she was very worried about what might happen from now on between you and Akari. When I heard that, I just kind of blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
“Chikashi,” I said, “in a situation like this, all you can do is bide your time. I mean, um, it’s like the period a while back when Akari stopped working on his compositions …” (Now every time I think about my glib, meaningless words, I get so mad at myself that I have to get up and pace around like a caged animal. And again, I just feel so terribly sad about everything that’s going on.)