I Wonder What Human Flesh Tastes Like (27 page)

Eventually the phone rang, and Masa got up to answer.

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It’s time, he said.

Miyuki put out her cigarette, moving the ashtray around from behind the three empty glasses on the table.

—
So what are we doing now? she said.

Tatsuya looked at Masa.

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I think we might go back, he said.

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What? Miyuki said. It’s still early...

She stood.

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I know. We should go to Odaiba!

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Isn’t that kind of far? Tatsuya said.

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Yeah, but it’d be worth it. Come on, we can go to Shimbashi and get the train from there.

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Seems okay to me, Masa said.

Tatsuya looked at his watch. It would be dark soon, he thought — if he went now, he would have to return home late, in the cold. There was nothing compelling him to leave, but already he felt tired. Too many unexpected things had happened, and he was beginning to miss the comfort of his room. But at the same time, he resented the thought of Masa and Miyuki going to Odaiba alone. There was no reason for him to feel this way, he knew, but he still felt a vague fear at the thought of Masa offending her. So he looked at them, nodded, and said:

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Okay, I’m coming.

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Great, Miyuki said. I want to go to Little Hong Kong. And we have to take
purikura
!

She was smiling now, but he sensed a kind of undertone, a forced quality to her excitement. Or maybe it was the alcohol — he couldn’t tell for sure.

It took them an hour and a half to get to Odaiba. They walked back to Kichijoji Station and caught the Chuo Line to Shibuya, then took the Yamanote Line to Shimbashi. Dusk had fallen by the time they reached the outskirts of the island. As they walked along the waterfront Tatsuya saw a distant dull green figure lit up by the fading light: the miniature replica of the Statue of Liberty. They passed close to a boat docking in the bay. Around them, couples were walking hand in hand. It was too cold to swim, but as they walked away from the waterfront they saw a dog shaking itself off.

—
I haven’t been here in ages, Masa said.

They went to an arcade, where Miyuki spent two thousand yen trying to win a stuffed animal in a shooting game. After that they all crowded into a photobooth for pictures. Standing in front of the video screen they posed and pulled faces, then waited outside as the machine printed out a tiny strip of photographs. Miyuki took a pair of scissors from a nearby table and cut them into rows, three photos for each of them.

—
Let’s go on the ferris wheel, she said. But we should eat first, I’m getting kind of hungry.

—
Me too, Tatsuya said.

They looked around for a while and eventually decided on a Chinese restaurant in Little Hong Kong.

—
It looks kind of expensive, Tatsuya said.

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So what? Miyuki said. If you’re really worried, I’ll pay.

Inside, they ordered corn soup and a plate of spring rolls. Tatsuya decided on roast duck; Miyuki went with fried rice. Masa said he wasn’t hungry.

—
I love this soup, Miyuki said. I get it every time I eat Chinese.

She leaned back in her seat and sipped from a glass of water. Tatsuya looked around the room, taking in the businessmen and couples seated at the tables. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been to a real restaurant.

—
So what do you guys usually do? Miyuki said.

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What do you mean? Tatsuya said.

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When you’re free, I mean.

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I don’t know, just hang out, pretty much.

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You should tell her about your philosophical treatise, Masa said.

She looked at him.

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Oh, what’s that?

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No, it’s nothing, really, Tatsuya said.

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Come on, tell me.

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It’s going to sound really stupid if I say it out loud.

She smiled.

—
Come on, you’ve brought it up, you gotta tell me now.

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I’m writing this philosophical treatise...

He stopped.

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No, I don’t know... I can’t talk about it.

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Go on, she said.

He paused, then spoke very quickly.

—
It’s a philosophical treatise opposing the value of human life.

The words hung in the air, heavy and lifeless. He had always hated talking about the treatise, and now wanted to kill Masa for mentioning it.

—
What? So what’s it about?

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I don’t know, I just think that... I just feel like it’d be better if we’d never been born.

She was looking at him quite seriously, he thought: nodding slowly, as if following the thread of an argument.

—
But you don’t really believe that, right?

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I don’t know.

She sat up.

—
You should write something with a happy ending. Have you read anything by Kaori Ekuni? I really like her.

—
Well, I mean... I mean I’m not really a real writer or anything...

After that the main dishes arrived and the conversation shifted to other topics: soccer, travel, music, recent films. Tatsuya and Masa sat listening, only rarely offering their opinions. Neither of them wanted to say too much about their lives, which meant that Miyuki kept talking. Tatsuya sensed she wasn’t usually the type of person who rambled on about herself, but she seemed comfortable, certainly more than before, and so he fed her questions, asking about her family, job, plans for the future. His earlier fears proved unfounded, as Masa didn’t say or do anything out of the ordinary. Instead he sat, mostly silent, sipping his tea and chewing on a spring roll.

—
I’m getting full, Miyuki said at last, pushing aside her plate. I don’t think I can finish this.

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Don’t worry about it, Tatsuya said.

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Do you guys want to do any other shopping or anything?

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Not really, Masa said.

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I just thought, while we’re here...

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You can, if you want, Tatsuya said.

—
Well, why don’t we go on the ferris wheel?

Neither of them objected, and after paying the bill they left the building and made their way back along the path. The top of the wheel became visible long before they reached it, the colored neon lights across its beams glittering sharply in the dark. Tatsuya remembered reading somewhere that it was the largest ferris wheel in the world. After waiting in line for fifteen minutes they paid the fare and climbed into one of the transparent glass cars. As the machine started Miyuki moved close to the side and looked out.

—
Are you guys scared? she asked.

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Not really, Tatsuya said. How about you?

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No, I love anything like this. Especially roller-coasters.

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Can’t do them, Tatsuya said.

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Me either, Masa said. This is enough for me.

Tatsuya felt the car move forward and rise up gently. At first he could see the lights of the bay ahead of them, then the whole outline of the island became clear, the ring of buildings surrounded by waves, distant silver-black ripples. As the car rose higher it seemed as if it would separate from the wheel altogether and float off into the sky.

—
We’re right at the top now, Masa said.

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Yeah, it’s amazing, Miyuki said. I like how pretty everything looks from up here. I mean, that must be Shimbashi somewhere over there, right? It’s so ugly when you’re there, but from here it looks like a big crystal.

They fell silent. As the car moved towards the ground again Tatsuya closed his eyes and listened to the sound of his own breathing. He felt very relaxed: the tiny car reminded him, in a way, of his room. And although Masa and Miyuki were there with him he felt no pressure to do anything. After a moment he opened his eyes and saw Miyuki leaning back in the seat next to him. Her eyelids were lowered, her mouth open a crack. She looked tired, he thought: for her, the day must have been exhausting. Afraid she would fall asleep, he tapped her arm lightly. She shifted and her leg touched his.

—
Are you having a good time? she said.

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Yeah, he said. You?

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Yeah.

She spoke the last word slowly, with no particular emphasis.

The car came to a stop, and soon the attendant was opening the door and hurrying them out. They left the Palette Town area and walked back towards the bay.

—
You want to shop now? Masa asked.

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No, Miyuki said.

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Then what do you want to do?

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Drinking.

—
Again?

—
Yeah.

They followed her as she inspected several bars along the waterfront. Most of them she dismissed as being too crowded, or ugly, or expensive. Eventually she decided on a small pub next to a noodle shop. There were only a few patrons: a table of businessmen, a group of foreigners, two old men by the window. They sat at the bar and Miyuki ordered a pint of Kirin.

—
You guys should really drink, she said.

Tatsuya looked out the window. From here he could see the bay, and past it the long expanse of Rainbow Bridge winding out towards Tokyo. He tried to remember the last time he’d been to Odaiba — probably it had been on a school trip years ago.

He looked around. Masa was playing with his mobile phone, adjusting the volume setting. Next to him, Miyuki lifted up her beer and drank. He could hear the voices of the foreigners from the other end of the bar, laughing at a joke in English. He took a menu from behind the counter and flipped through it, scanning the names of drinks. Miyuki finished her beer and ordered another.

After an hour, Masa stood.

—
Well, I’m going back, he said. My last train’s in fifteen minutes.

Tatsuya stood.

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I’ll come with you.

Miyuki got up and came over to him.

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Stay with me, she said. My last train isn’t for another hour.

Tatsuya turned to her, then looked at Masa, hoping he would say something.

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I think I’ve gotta head back, he said. I mean, it’s kind of late...

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Stay with me until the last train, Miyuki said again. Her eyelids were half-closed, and she seemed tired, or sad, or both: he couldn’t tell.

He turned to Masa again but his face was blank; there was no sign he understood his friend’s appeal. Tatsuya suddenly felt a great distance between them — he had, he realized, no idea what Masa was thinking.

—
Just stay with her, Masa said at last. It’s not that long.

Finally he seemed to sense Tatsuya’s hesitation, and stepped forward.

—
I’ll send you the first draft of the report tomorrow. You can tell me if I left anything out.

Tatsuya looked at Miyuki, who barely seemed to be listening. Instead she stared past them out the door, slowly rocking back and forth.

—
All right, he said. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, then.

Masa nodded at him and left. Tatsuya turned back to Miyuki, who was already walking back to the bar. She ordered another beer and looked across the room, through the window to the lights of the bay. He sat next to her.

—
Are you still thinking about, uh...

She turned to him.

—
Yeah. But, don’t worry.

She started in on her beer. He looked around. The bar had emptied out — the only other customers were the two old men by the window. Next to him, Miyuki slumped forward and rested her elbows on the counter.

—
My little sister’s really weird, she said. I think she’s autistic or something. She’s in Kobe now, but... when she was little she never really talked to anyone, she’d just sit there watching TV or listening to her music. Then when she got to high school she started going out all the time and didn’t come home until early in the morning. We thought she was out with friends but I never saw her with anyone else, and when I asked her she said she just went places alone and sat there. She’d go to a mall and just sit on a bench outside for five hours. Or she’d go to a restaurant and sit down and not order anything and just stay there until someone asked her to leave. Oh, and Inokashira Park, she used to go there too. I always tried to get her to tell me about it and she just looked at me and didn’t say anything. And she’d wear the same clothes like five days in a row — she had this one red sweatshirt she wore every single day.

As he listened to her speak he looked at the opposite window, and it was not until he turned his head that he saw she was looking at him. He looked back, saying nothing. After a pause she spoke again:

—
Yeah... my sister’s weird.

She looked into his eyes, not smiling. Her expression was vaguely expectant, but what it expected he couldn’t tell. It was not an expression he had seen before. He looked away, and after a while he sensed her head lolling forward. When he turned back he saw her resting her head on the table, beneath her folded arms.

Another half hour passed in silence.

At the sound of the bartender moving about by the register, he looked up. The men by the window were leaving. Tatsuya looked at his watch; it was close to midnight.