Tokyo Year Zero (3 page)

Fujita and I have finished laying out the body on the newspapers. Now I glance at Fujita. I am not sure if Captain Muto means for us to search or not. Fujita doesn’t move –

But now the Kempei captain barks –

‘You two take this dormitory!’

Not our case any more
…

Fujita and I both salute him. Fujita and I both bow to him. Then we march off towards the building –

I am cursing. Fujita cursing
… ‘Nishi back in the office…’

Detective Fujita takes the top floor. I take the second floor. The knotted wooden floorboards of the corridor squeak. Knock-knock. Door to door. Room to room. Every room exactly the same –

The tatami mats, frayed and well worn. The single window and the blackout curtain. The thin green walls and the chrysanthemum wallpaper, limp and peeling –

Every room empty, abandoned.

The very end of the corridor. The very last room. The very last door.
Knock-knock
. I turn the handle. I open the door –

The same old mats. The single window. The same blackout curtain. The thin walls. The same peeling paper –

In another empty room.

I walk across the mats. I pull back the curtain. The sunlight illuminates a partially burnt mosquito coil on a low table –

The stench of piss. The stench of shit –

Human piss and human shit
…

I open the closet built into the wall and there, among a heap of bedding, crouches an old man, his face buried in a futon –

I crouch down. I say, ‘Don’t be afraid…’

Now he turns his head from the bedding and looks up at me; the old man’s face is flat and his lips are chapped and parted, showing broken yellow dirt-flecked teeth –

He stinks of piss and of shit –

The old man is a Korean –

I curse and I curse
…

He is a
Yobo –

‘Congratulations!’

I look round; Corporal Katayama, the younger Kempei officer, is stood in the doorway, Fujita behind him, shaking his head –

‘Bring him downstairs!’ orders the Kempei man –

I stare at this Corporal Katayama –

I am looking into a mirror
… ‘Quickly!’ he barks.

The old man buries his head back in the bedding, his shoulders shaking, mumbling and moaning –

‘I didn’t do anything! Please…’ His breath foul and rotten –

I take him by his shoulders and start to pull him from the bedding, from the closet, the old man wriggling and struggling –

‘I didn’t do anything! Please, I want to live!’ ‘Help him!’ the corporal orders Fujita –

Fujita and I drag the old man from the closet, from the room, by his shoulders, by his arms, then out into the corridor, back along the floorboards; we have an arm each now –

The man’s trunk and legs aslant –

His feet are trailing –

The Kempei officer marching behind with his sword in one hand, kicking at the soles of the old man’s feet, striking him with his sword to hurry him along –

Down the stairs –

Into the light
…

‘That’s him!’ cries the boiler-man now. ‘That’s him!’

‘Get me two spades now!’ shouts the older Kempei officer and the caretaker runs back inside his cabin-cum-office –

‘You two, bring the suspect over here.’

Fujita and I march the old Korean man over to Captain Muto in the shade of the other dormitory –

Into the shadows
…

The caretaker comes back with the two spades. Captain Muto takes one of the spades from the caretaker and hands it to the boiler-man. He nods at a patch of ground that might once have been a flowerbed, then perhaps a vegetable patch, but now is nothing but hard, packed soil stained black –

‘Dig a hole,’ he says.

The caretaker and the boiler-man begin to dig up the ground,
the caretaker already sweating and saying, ‘He made a peephole to spy on the women workers as they bathed…’

The boiler-man wiping his skull, then his neck and agreeing, ‘We caught him and we beat him but…’

‘But he kept coming back…’

‘He couldn’t keep away…’

Captain Muto points at a spot just in front of where the two men are digging. The captain orders Fujita and me to stand the old Korean man in front of the deepening hole –

The old man just blinking –

His mouth hanging open.

Fujita and I push the Korean towards the spot, his body weaving back and forth like rice-jelly. I tell him, ‘There’s nothing to worry about. Just stand over here while we sort this out…’

But the old Korean man looks at each of us now –

The two Kempei officers, the Neighbourhood Association officials, the caretaker, the boiler-man –

Detective Fujita and me –

The dead body lain on the newspapers, the dead body partially covered by the blanket –

‘
I am here
…’

Then the Korean glances back at the freshly dug ground, at the hole that the caretaker and the boiler-man are digging, and now he tries to run but Fujita and I grab him and hold him, his body shaking, his face contorted as he cries out, ‘I don’t want to be killed!

‘I didn’t do anything! Please, I want to live!’

‘Shut up,
Yobo!’
says someone –

‘But I didn’t do anything…’

‘So why did you just try to escape,
Yobo?’
asks Captain Muto. ‘In Japan, innocent men don’t run away.’ ‘Please don’t kill me!

Please!’

‘You lying
Yobo
bastard!’

‘Shut up!’ shouts the younger Kempei officer now and he points over to the body beneath the blanket, the body lain out in the dirt and the sun by the corrugated metal doors to the air-raid shelter, and he asks the old Korean man, ‘Did you rape that woman?’

And the old Korean man glances again at the body on the newspapers, the body beneath the blanket –

Bloated and punctured
…

‘Did you kill that woman?’

He shakes his head –

Flesh and bone
…

Captain Muto steps forward. The older Kempei officer slaps the Korean’s face. ‘Answer him,
Yobo!’

The Korean says nothing.

‘This
Yobo
is obviously a criminal,’ says Captain Muto. ‘This
Yobo
is obviously guilty. There’s nothing more to say…’

The old man looks up at us all again; the two Kempei officers, the Neighbourhood Association officials, the caretaker, the boiler-man, Detective Fujita and me; the old man shakes his head again –

But now all our eyes are fixed on Captain Muto’s sword, the Kempei man’s bright and shining military sword –

The sword unsheathed and drawn –

The blade raised high –

All our gazes slowly falling to one single spot above the old Korean man’s back –

One spot
…

‘It’s time!’ shouts the younger Kempei officer suddenly –

The caretaker rushing back into his cabin-cum-office, shouting, ‘The Imperial broadcast! The Imperial broadcast!’

Everyone turns to stare at the office, then back again to Captain Muto. The Kempei man lowers his sword –

‘Bring the
Yobo
over to the radio,’ he shouts and marches off towards the caretaker’s cabin himself –

And everyone follows him –

To stand in a semi-circle before the open window of the caretaker’s cabin-cum-office –

To listen to a radio –

Listen to a voice –

His voice
…

A voice hollow, sorrowful and trembling –

‘To Our good and loyal subjects
…’

The voice of a god on the radio –

‘Oh
so bravely, off to Victory/Insofar as we have vowed and left our land behind
…’

I can hear the strains of that song from a sound-truck again, the strains of ‘Roei no Uta’ and the voice of a god on the radio –

‘After pondering deeply the general trends of the world and
the actual conditions in Our Empire today, We have decided to effect a settlement of the present situation by resorting to an extraordinary measure
…’

‘Who
can die without first having shown his true mettle/Each time I hear the bugles of our advancing army

The strains of the song, the voice of a god, and the heat of the sun beating down on all our hats and all our heads –

‘We have ordered Our government to communicate to the governments of the United States, Great Britain, China, and the Soviet Union that Our Empire accepts the provisions of their Joint Declaration
…’

‘I
close my eyes and see wave upon wave of flags cheering us into battle
…’

The strains of the song, the voice of a god, the heat of the sun, and the men from the Neighbourhood Association on their knees, heads in their hands, already sobbing –

‘To strive for the common prosperity and happiness of all nations as well as the security and well-being of Our subjects is the solemn obligation handed down by Our Imperial Ancestors, and which We hold close to heart. Indeed, We declared war on America and Britain out of Our sincere desire to ensure Japan’s self-preservation and the stabilization of East Asia, it being far from Our thought either to infringe upon the sovereignty of other nations or to embark on territorial aggrandizement. But now the war has lasted for nearly four years. Despite the best that has been done by everyone –the gallant fighting of military and naval forces, the diligence and assiduity of Our servants of the State, and the devoted service of Our one hundred million people, the war situation has developed not necessarily to Japan’s advantage, while the general trends of the world have all turned against her interests. Moreover, the enemy has begun to employ a new and most cruel bomb, the power of which to do damage is indeed incalculable, taking the toll of many innocent lives. Should We continue to fight, it would not only result in the ultimate collapse and obliteration of the Japanese nation, but also it would lead to the total extinction of human civilization. Such being the case, how are We to save the millions of Our subjects, or to atone Ourselves before the hallowed spirits of Our Imperial Ancestors? This is the reason We have ordered the acceptance of the provisions of the Joint Declaration of the Powers
…’

‘The
earth and its flora burn in flames/As we endlessly part the plains
…’

The song, the voice, and the heat; men on their knees, heads in hands, sobbing and now howling –

‘We cannot but express the deepest sense of regret to Our allied nations of East Asia, who have consistently cooperated with the Empire towards the emancipation of East Asia. The thought of those officers and men as well as others who have fallen in the fields of battle, those who died at their post of duty, or those who met an untimely death and all their bereaved families, pains Our heart night and day. The welfare of the wounded and the war sufferers, and of those who have lost their home and livelihood, are the objects of Our profound solicitude. The hardships and sufferings to which Our nation is to be subjected hereafter will be certainly great. We are keenly aware of the inmost feelings of all ye, Our subjects. However, it is according to the dictates of time and fate that We have resolved to pave the way for a grand peace for all generations to come by enduring the unendurable and suffering what is insufferable
…’

‘Helmets emblazoned with the Rising Sun/And, stroking the mane of our horses
…’

The endless song, the endless voice, and the endless heat; men on their knees, howling, now prostrate upon the floor in lamentation, weeping in the dust –

‘Having been able to safeguard and maintain the structure of the Imperial State, We are always with ye, Our good and loyal subjects, relying upon your sincerity and integrity. Beware most strictly of any outburst of emotion which may engender needless complications, or any fraternal contention and strife which may create confusion, lead ye astray, and cause ye to lose the confidence of the world
…’

‘Who knows what tomorrow will bring – life?’

The song is ending, the voice ending, the sky darkening now; the sound of one hundred million weeping, howling, wounded people borne on a wind across a nation ending –

‘Let the entire nation continue as one family from generation to generation, ever firm in its faith of the imperishableness of its divine land, and mindful of its heavy burden of responsibilities, and the long road before it. Unite your total strength to be devoted to the construction for the future. Cultivate the ways of rectitude; foster
nobility of spirit; and work with resolution so as ye may enhance the innate glory of the Imperial State and keep pace with the progress of the world.’

‘Or death in battle?’

It is over and now there is silence, only silence, silence until the boiler-man asks, ‘Who was that on the radio?’

‘The Emperor himself,’ says Fujita.

‘Really? What was he saying?’

‘He was reading an Imperial Rescript,’ says Fujita.

‘But what was he talking about?’ asks the boiler-man and this time no one answers him, no one until I say –

‘It was to end the war…’

‘So we won…?’

Only silence
…

‘We won…’

‘Shut up!’ shouts Captain Muto, the older Kempei officer –

I turn to look at him, to bow and to apologize –

His lips still moving but no words are forming, tears rolling down his cheeks as he brings the blade of his sword up close to his face, the thick blade catching the last sunlight –

His eyes, red spots on white
…

He stares into the blade –

Bewitched
.

Now he turns from the blade and looks into each of our faces, then down at the old Korean man still in our midst –

‘Move!’ he shouts at the Korean –

‘Back over there,
Yobo!’

But the old Korean man stands shaking his head –

‘Move! Move!’ shouts the Kempei man again and begins to shove the old Korean back over towards the hole –

Kicking, prodding him with the sword –

‘Face the hole,
Yobo!
Face the hole!’

The Korean with his back to us –