Читать книгу Season of Violence - Shintaro Ishihara - Страница 9

SEASON OF VIOLENCE

(Taiyō no Kisetsu)

Eiko fascinated Tatsuya in the same way that boxing did. She caused him the same mixture of shock and pleasure that he felt whenever he was knocked down in the ring.

If he had taken a hammering from an opponent, he would immediately assume the correct stance again; then at the end of the round he would sit glaring at his enemy in the other corner, too excited to listen to his seconds. He could hardly wait to start fighting again. The thrill was unique and never palled.

As soon as the next round started he was his old self again, jabbing confidently at his opponent. The spectators never failed to be impressed by the resolute smile he wore as the other boxer came weaving towards him.

But Tatsuya was never a natural boxer. He looked cool and calm during his fights, but his enthusiasm outweighed his skill and experience. It was just that he liked sports, and boxing in particular. He had been on the basketball team for a year because of his height and ability. But he would never pass the ball once he had hold of it, and his selfish play often spoiled the teamwork both in practice and in real games.

Tatsuya had once seen foreigners bamboozle a Japanese team in an international match by various tricks and feints. He had applauded vigorously, but when he tried the same tactics himself, his side accused him of grand-standing.

He first put on boxing gloves during his second year at college. One afternoon when there were no classes he went along to the gym to collect his winnings from a mah jong game. Eda, a classmate of his who ran the boxing club, owed him the money. It was early for training and only two or three boxers were warming up in the gym. There were sandbags hanging from the ceiling and shoes and gloves on the wall. Tatsuya smiled at a skull and crossbones painted on someone's locker. Everything was spotlessly clean and the atmosphere was calm, but the place reminded him of a slaughter house.

Sahara was shadowboxing by the ringside and had obviously skipped English class in the morning. He wore a dark blue track suit with the school colors in stripes across the chest. The action of hitting out at nothing and from time to time bending down, looked strange. His legs moved quickly in their tight trousers, and his arms delivered sudden punches as if driven by some mysterious force.

Tatsuya knew that Sahara was surprisingly strong for his size. The autumn before, a group of students had met for the annual matches and afterwards had made the rounds of the night clubs. An elderly passer-by—a graduate of their rival school—had told them to quiet down when they laughed drunkenly at him. He finally got angry and knocked one of them down. Sahara stepped forward and gave him a hard punch in the stomach. The man groaned and fell forward. As he fell, Sahara hit him in the face so hard that he shot over backwards and lay quietly sprawled on the floor. The others had been disappointed by the shortness of the fight, but Sahara was immediately accepted as a member of the club.

Sahara caught sight of Tatsuya and grinned at him. It reminded Tatsuya of something that had happened in spring. Tatsuya was taking his brother's dog for a walk along the beach early one morning. He had seen a man in a red track suit with a white towel around his neck running along the shore, shadowboxing as he went. It was the Hawaiian world champion. Tatsuya knew the champion was almost at the end of his career, and he was in fact defeated by a Japanese boxer in the title match a week later. When he saw Tatsuya on the deserted shore, his dark face lit up in a broad grin. Tatsuya grinned back. When the boxer passed him again, after running to the end of the beach, Tatsuya flung his hands above his head in a gesture of triumph and shouted: "Hey, good luck!" He had seen two boxers greet each other like that in an American film.

The champion waved to Tatsuya and ran past. As he watched him go, Tatsuya felt impressed and somewhat moved. He also felt pleased with what he had done. "I'm sure he'll remember this morning, even if he loses the fight," he said to himself.

Tatsuya, who had been a supporter of the Japanese challenger, now found himself on the side of the older foreign champion. He was moved by the boxer's lonely self-discipline. He had the same feeling as he watched Sahara.

He went over to the club room where Eda was playing poker with friends. Eda asked him what he wanted.

"Oh, I'm just killing time really, but I also came to collect the money I won the other day," Tatsuya replied.

"Well, you picked a fine time to show up. Come on, you can sit in and see if your luck repeats."

Tatsuya joined them and was dealt cards.

He had the ability to learn quickly, but he stopped when he learned all he thought there was to know. He played well enough not to lose even when playing against someone with a run of luck. Actually, cards bored him unless he was playing against a really good player. He regarded small games only as a means of making pin money, and that wasn't much of a challenge—that couldn't be called gambling.

As time went on, more members arrived at the club. Some changed into their boxing gear without saying a word; others just stuck their heads inside, made some joking remark, and left. Tatsuya was winning as usual, but his mind was not on the game. He was embarrassed at winning in a group of which he was not a member.

"What class do you figure I'd be?"

"Of what?"

"Of boxing, of course!"

"If you were fit, I should think you'd be fighter than a featherweight," someone said, patting him on the shoulder.

"Why not let me have a go at it?"

"Stop kidding. You're in the basketball club, aren't you? Boxing's a lot different from your sexy-pants basketball, you know."

"Yeah, I know, but basketball doesn't suit me. It's not my style."

It was almost time to start training. They began to put the cards away.

"Hey, Eda, just one round? It won't cause you any trouble."

"Don't be crazy. You might get hurt and then what?"

Sahara came over and asked what was going on.

"He wants to do some sparring," said Eda. He turned to Tatsuya. "You're a fool to fight without any practice. If you get killed, don't blame me."

"It's all right. Basketball's made me pretty tough, and anyway, I won't go too far. If you let me into the ring, I'll forget about the money you owe me and what I made today."

"Let him have a go. I'll go into the ring with him and try to take it easy on him," said Sahara.

"Well, don't blame me afterwards. A good thing the captain's not here today. Here, put on these sweat pants."

"Come on, those pants are grim. Can't I wear your shorts. They're sharp?"

"This isn't a real match, you know. Don't forget to warm up."

The gloves on his hands looked incredibly large.

Mitsuda, who was exercising with a skipping rope, saw Tatsuya coming and asked him what he was doing.

"I'm fighting Sahara for the title," he replied and gave the sandbag a hearty punch. The bag was more responsive than he had expected. It made him feel excited.

A number of students gathered around to watch the "title match." Tatsuya's stance resembled a basketball player's.

"Bravo, two points!" someone shouted, and everybody laughed.

Much against Tatsuya's will, Eda made him put on a headguard. He was the only person wearing one, and although he knew it was Eda's consideration for him, he felt a little insulted.

The two fighters touched gloves and Eda rang the gong.

"Take it easy, now."

Tatsuya's first punch missed completely. Sahara did not even have to duck. He hit out again, a left, a right, a left, leaving his guard wide open. Sahara got in several jabs to the chin, followed by a hard left to the nose. Tatsuya pulled his head back, and Sahara delivered two strong punches to the body and stepped back to await Tatsuya's counterattack. They had been heavy blows. Tatsuya tried to smile but met his opponent's unsmiling eyes. They were cool and clear as he waited for the next chance to strike. Suddenly Tatsuya's whole nature boiled violently with impatience and anger.

"What's the matter?" somebody cried out.

He braced himself for a moment and then rushed at his opponent, striking out confusedly with both gloves. One or two blows must have told, but they soon got into a clinch and had to be separated. Sahara then pushed him to the ropes and landed a straight left to the heart. Tatsuya doubled up, only to receive an uppercut to his right eye. The blow was a shock to him. His face felt red and large and his vision was blurred.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to let go."

Tatsuya shook his head and stepped forward again. Then the gong sounded.

"Enough for today! Are you all right? That last one was a rough one. But he did well, don't you think, Sahara?"

"Yeah, and his punches are pretty strong. I could duck most of them, but he got a few in."

"Do you still want to leave basketball and join us, or have you had enough? Maybe you have, huh?"

Tatsuya was too exhausted to say much. His face, his chest, and his shoulders all felt swollen. Finally he muttered, "It's interesting, this boxing."

"You're a bad boxer! Look at your face—big as a basketball!" said someone.

"Eda, put a cold patch on Tatsuya's eye, will you?" said Sahara.

And so he joined the boxing club. With Tatsuya's letter of resignation in hand, the basketball manager said, "Too bad he's got to quit now when we've trained him this far." However, he admitted later that Tatsuya might make a good boxer as he had more drive than any of the others on the team.

He concentrated on his boxing, loving the excitement of the fights. He also liked the tense feeling he had when he fought and the feeling of being on his own in the ring.

In the late autumn, since there were only a few featherweights competing that year, he was picked to fight as a light featherweight in the All-Japan College Boxing Tournament. As a result of an unlucky draw, his first match was against the previous year's champion.

"Still, the tougher the opponent, the better the fight," he said smilingly to the club members who showed anxiety. "It may not be interesting for the spectators, but it's more exciting for me. Can't tell the winner until it's finished."

"Your opponent has a particularly strong punch, so try and fight at a distance and gain points. You have a longer reach than he has," the coach advised.

During the fight Tatsuya only followed the advice for the first round. He had received two nasty blows at the end of the first. He began the second round in high spirits and went on springing around the ring. But Eda was worried. It was only a three-round fight, and in the third round Tatsuya received a fierce punch which cut the corner of his left eye. The cut started to bleed, and the cold-blooded crowd cheered louder. By the final gong Tatsuya was a popular fighter. He lost the match but gained points among the spectators.

The next day the newspapers described him as an up and coming boxer with stamina and a hard punch. His fight was considered the most impressive of the feather-weights.

A few days later Tatsuya was in a match at Yokohama. He was waiting in the gym dressing room when a bouquet of flowers was brought in to him. There was an unsigned card which read only: "To Tatsuya—Fight your best!"

His friends jeered, "Good idea to have your flowers sent beforehand. You might not be able to smell them with a broken nose."

"Won't you please win for me, Tatsu-baby!" said one of his friends, imitating a girl's voice.

"I wonder who sent them?"

"Don't you have any idea?"

"No, no idea at all!"

Once he was in the ring Tatsuya picked out in the crowd the three girls he had met recently. They were sitting ostentatiously in the third row. All were gaily dressed, which made them stand out, and Eiko was wearing a kimono.

"Wearing a kimono at this place like she was going blossom-viewing!" said Tatsuya.

Eda winked at him. "That's her, isn't it?"

When the referee called out his name, the three girls shouted it again in unison. It was a completely new experience for Tatsuya. He frowned and felt rather annoyed, but acknowledged their support with a wave of his hand.

He outboxed his opponent easily, with the result that the match was a dull one. Each time Tatsuya got in a blow or avoided the other's punches, he heard Eiko's scream of encouragement. Her voice spurred him on and put him in more of a fighting mood than was really necessary. Sitting in his corner, he became conscious of the spectators for the first time in his career. He began to look like a card player worried about a bystander. The end came in the second round, but as his opponent fell, he tried to steady himself by grabbing at Tatsuya's head, opening the old cut over his eye.

The referee separated them and announced a TKO and a victory for Tatsuya. Tatsuya stood and watched his opponent for a moment, at the same time putting his hand unconsciously on the injured eye, which was now swimming in blood. Eda shouted at him not to touch it. Tatsuya got out under the ropes with one eye closed. He heard Eiko and the other girls call out his name. He tried to smile in their direction.

After first aid, he changed and left with Eda for the hospital before the others. He found Eiko and her friends waiting for him outside the main entrance.

"Are you badly hurt?" Eiko asked him.

"No, he just opened up an old cut," said Tatsuya.

"You're sure you're all right?"

"Yes, but I'm afraid I can't go out with you today. Got to go to the hospital."

"Then I'll give you a lift in my car," she said quickly. "It's parked just around the corner. Which hospital is it?"

"Good," said Eda who accepted the offer before Tatsuya could answer. "If it's really all right, we'd appreciate it. Hop in, Tatsuya. I've still got a lot to do here."

Eiko unlocked the car and opened a rear door. "You'd better lie down in the back," she said.

"No, I'm all right. But are you sure you can drive in a kimono?"

"Yes, of course I can!"

He sat in the front, and the other two in the back. Eiko started the car and set off for the hospital.

"Thanks for the flowers," said Tatsuya suddenly, without looking at Eiko. "But I wish you girls wouldn't make so much noise during the fight. I don't like it—it makes me nervous."

"Why, how can you accuse us of making noise?" said Eiko, and the three girls laughed.

"Tatsuya, you're kind of touchy, aren't you?" said Eiko after a while. "You didn't look like that type at all the other day."

"Who, me? You've got me all wrong. I couldn't be impudent with you," he replied.

The previous Saturday, five days before, he and his friends had gone into town dressed in their best clothes, as they often did on weekends. Between them they could only raise eight thousand yen, which was not enough for what they wanted. In the end they decided to try and pick up some respectable girls instead of spending their money on bar hostesses. Rather than ask girls they already knew, they would pick up the first girls that came along.

But no one wanted to make the first approach. They were usually much bolder and more "men-of-the-world" than their ages would indicate when it came to prostitutes and hostesses, but in this case they were all a little hesitant. In the end they drew lots by picking out thousand-yen notes and comparing the serial numbers. Tatsuya and Nishimura had the lowest numbers.

They were both very experienced with women and had highly developed tastes, but in spite of this, they had to walk along the main street and down a side street before they could work up enough courage. Finally at a milliner's on Namiki Avenue, Nishimura spotted three girls, all about the same age and all smartly dressed.

"Let's have a look at them from the front and see what they're like," he suggested.

When the girls came out of the shop, he sized them up quickly. He recognized in a moment that they all had clear-cut features. One of them had unusual eyes. Their noses looked alike, and someone remarked, "They're probably plastic surgery specials'."

Sahara noticed that one girl was trying to hail a cab and laid claim to her.

"If you guys let her go, it's no drinks for you tonight," he said.

The girls walked towards the main street in search of a taxi and Nishimura and Tatsuya ran after them, but as they drew close Nishimura suddenly stopped.

"Your number was the smallest, Tatsuya, you do the talking."

"Okay. But don't run off."

They set off again and soon overtook the girls.

Tatsuya's voice was rather weak as he said: "Excuse me," but the girls stopped and looked round.

"What is it?" said one girl, shifting her parcel from one hand to the other.

Tatsuya was already beginning to lose his nerve.

"My name is Tsugawa—Tatsuya Tsugawa," he stammered. "I'm a member of the boxing club. I'm sorry if . . ."

"A boxer? Well!"

He almost added that he was in the featherweight class. For a moment he wondered if this was going to work— the odds were against it. He began to feel a little more at ease. He told himself he didn't mind if they turned him down. It was too crazy to work out, but now that he had given them his name, he had to win.

The atmosphere was still a little tense, and for Tatsuya it was something like being challenged by a young tough on the street—both pleasant and ticklish. A faint smile came to his lips.

By this time Nishimura had slipped away.

"I'm all out of breath," he went on. "I had a job catching up . . . we're college students . . . we wanted to go out tonight . . . but we had no girls to go out with. We don't want to embarrass you, but if you're not doing anything else, we'd like you to join us. There are five of us. We've been trying to find some girls for a long time, but up to now we haven't found any worth talking to. Would you like to join us?"

"Well, it's very nice of you, but there are only three of us."

"Oh, don't let that worry you. As a matter of fact, it's safer that way," replied Tatsuya.

The girls withdrew a little, whispered together, and began to laugh at something. While this was going on, Tatsuya waved vigorously to his companions, who were watching developments from the corner. Nishimura was jumping up and down excitedly.

"My mother's in the hairdresser's over there," said one of the girls. "We were going to meet her, so I'll ask her to take home the things we got shopping. It's a nuisance carrying them around with us. Can you wait here a few minutes?"

"It's a lot of stuff for her to carry."

"Oh, no. She has a car."

"Well, be sure and come back."

"We'll come back. I'll tell you what, Sachiko can stay with you as a hostage."

"That's all right, but we'd like to know the rest of your names too."

He went back to the others feeling very pleased with himself.

"What do you think of that, boys. Pretty smooth, eh? You nipped off very smartly, Nishimura!"

"I'm sorry, I haven't got your nerve."

"What! As a punishment, you'll have to do as we tell you tonight. Well, they're called Eiko, Sachiko, and Yuki. I tell you now, Eiko's mine. I guess I deserve her, after all."

"What! The one with the funny eyes?"

"Yeah, she's got one single eyelid and one double, one, two, one, two—she's a boxer's kind."

"Yeah, and you're jealous. Little imperfections make her better."

When the girls were all gathered, introductions were made and they went off to a night club, a good one that was not too expensive.

"I hope we've got enough cash," said Matsuno, who was acting as treasurer.

"How about if Nishimura and the next lowest number hock their watches in a pawnshop to be on the safe side. It'd be bad if we couldn't pay the bill."

"Eight thousand yen won't be enough," said Tatsuya. "But let's spend that first, and then Sahara can use his influence. He said this place let him chalk up a bill once before. But don't overdo things with the girls because I promised them we wouldn't give them any trouble."

"Okay, but listen to who's talking!"

Tatsuya managed to keep Eiko to himself the whole evening. About eleven, the girls said they should go, but Nishimura persuaded them to stay another half hour.

Tatsuya went to the dance floor with Eiko. When the music ended, Eiko stopped him on the way back to the table.

"Here's some money. Please keep it. It's just the taxi fare." She handed him something wrapped in a handkerchief.

"Ahh . . . ?"

But she cut him short: "Don't worry. We've had a lovely time, Tatsuya. All quite unexpected."

"Well, as a matter of fact, we are a bit short of money."

"I thought so," said Eiko with a smile.

Tatsuya remembered Eiko saying as they were leaving the night club that she wanted to see him box one day.

"By the way, you remember the handkerchief you gave me with the money in? Well, anyhow, Matsuno was sick in it on the way home that night and we had to throw it away," Tatsuya said.

"How unromantic!" said Sachiko.

Eiko dropped Tatsuya at the entrance to the hospital and they said good-bye. She turned, gave a toot of the horn, and drove off; Tatsuya found himself staring vacantly at the disappearing car.

"Don't be a fool! Did you expect her to come into surgery and bandage you up?" he told himself.

As he slowly made his way up the stairs to surgery he met a friend of his, a soccer player, coming down with his arm in a sling.

"Well?" he looked inquiringly at his injury.

"I won on a TKO," replied Tatsuya.

"Congratulations," said his friend and shook his free hand warmly.

Tatsuya's cut was not serious but they made him lie down for an hour while they treated him. A nurse came in and said there was a call for him. The doctor told her to take a message and leave it at the reception desk.

When they had finished, he asked about the call and was told that someone had rung up to find out if he was still in the hospital. Tatsuya figured it was Eda. He was surprised and a little annoyed to hear a big car honking just behind him as he walked out of the gate. He jumped aside and looked round. The car was moving along slowly and Eiko was waving at him from inside.

"Well! What's going on here?" he asked puzzled.

"I've got rid of the others."

"How did you know I was still in the hospital?"

"I phoned just now."

"So it was you!"

Tatsuya got in beside her. She was now wearing Western clothes. He was delighted at her quick and efficient ways, and it made up for whatever annoyance he had felt in the afternoon.

He drank a lot that night and his cut began to hurt, but with Eiko there it did not seem to matter.

After that he went out with her a lot. Each time he was amazed at the number of people she knew. Wherever they went, at least one or two people would nod to her. At first she introduced him to her friends, but he always looked awkward and hardly spoke to them, so she soon stopped.

Tatsuya once wondered but could not decide whether her friends were mainly men or women. Anyhow, the men were not his business; their relationship wasn't close enough for him to complain if she had been in love with them.

Up till then Tatsuya had only been interested in sensual pleasure. The women he knew best were those of the red light districts. In the confusion of modern life, love was out of the question for Tatsuya. No matter what kind of girls he might have been in love with, they always shattered any romantic illusions quickly enough, and he had no way of telling whether Eiko might not do the same.

Among his friends, emotions, and love in particular, came to be looked at from a materialistic point of view; the word "love" was only used with contempt. To them it was a word used to tease or ridicule someone ignorant of women. A popular remark was: "He's in love, so we know he hasn't had a woman yet."

To them the relationship between father and son was that of mutual friendship. But with their mothers—even with the mothers of their close friends—they behaved like spoiled children. When they got disillusioned by women who at first had attracted them, they came running home to their mothers. They only thought of their women as "things" as time went on, and this nursed the overly-indulgent nature of their mothers' love. There was a case of a young mother who, out of spite for her husband's having taken a mistress, took on a lover herself. Her son found out and kicked her in the face. His friends heard of this and treated him with the greatest respect. He was looked up to as a matured man.

All the group were very good friends, but theirs were not the generous friendships each had had in his high school days. There was no element of self-sacrifice in their relationships, but instead a carefully balanced system of debit and credit. If the debit column grew too long, the friendship would break up. Everything they did and said was calculated; they never risked a wild venture that might drastically upset their accounts. In a sense, there were certain standards which had to be adhered to and which served as a basis for their special morality. Their conception of friendship was that of being accomplices in crime. There was a common bond formed by their savage or immoral acts—acts which were not wholly attributable to their youth—and this welded the bonds of their friendships.

This group of young men was mixed up in all sorts of sleezy doings—with women, questionable businesses, fights, and even blackmail. These involvements occurred frequently and were always considered the result of youthful mistakes. Their elders would either ignore their faults or else excuse them because they were "young."

If the adult world feared them as a dangerous force, second only to communism, this fear was groundless. A new generation brought forth new sentiments and a new code of morals, and these youths were growing up in such surroundings. They stood erect, like cactus, without looking down to see that they were blooming in barren soil.

The young unconsciously tried to destroy the morals of their elders—morals which always judged against the new generation. In the young people's eyes, the reward of virtue was dullness and vanity. While the older generation thought it was growing ever more broad-minded, but actually grew narrower in outlook, the young looked for something broad and fresh to build on. And besides, who started measuring naked human feelings in terms of material things?

Tatsuya was no exception. He behaved like a spoiled child with his mother, but with his father it was quite different. One day, soon after he had joined the boxing club, he happened to see his father in a first-class railway car between Tokyo and Yokosuka. Tatsuya was on his way home from a training session. He got on and came home in the same car as his father. Sitting still on a roomy seat beside his father, he was the picture of the dutiful teenager next door who went to school every morning on the same train as his father.

That evening after supper he felt thoroughly worn out. He stretched himself out and muttered: "I can't stand it. I think I'll get a first-class train pass during training. It's so much more comfortable."

His father heard him and lowered his paper noisily.

"What's that? Where do you get such silly ideas? You're still in college, you know. If your training tires you so much, you'd better give it up. In any case, I haven't got money to waste on a pass for you."

"Money to waste?"

For a moment Tatsuya felt nothing but hatred for his father.

Sunday about a month later he was watching his father training for the annual alumni boat race.

"Your old man's still pretty fit. Just look at these muscles," his father called out. "Training was training in my day. Go ahead, punch me, boxer!"

He felt his father's muscles. His stomach was still lean and solid. His father tensed, and Tatsuya punched him as hard as he could in the stomach, sending the older man reeling backward.

"Hey, what are you trying to do. I didn't mean for you to take me so seriously," his father said as he slowly picked himself up, a shocked, cold look in his eyes.

The next day when his mother told him that his father had spit up blood, Tatsuya said nothing, but a few days later, after some hard sparring, he returned home with his face horribly swollen. He went straight into his father's study.

"I got a real work-out today," he said, "Look at my head."

This was Tatsuya's rather peculiar attempt to make amends to his father, and he was disappointed when all his father did was look worried and ask if he was all right.

Tatsuya had long given up on love as well. His only notion of it was limited to an image of himself and a woman in a forest somewhere, where they played about naked among the trees. He had no clear picture of the woman either; whether she was the younger or was innocent did not matter.

With this attitude, it was natural that he should not have expected anything special from Eiko over and above simple sex. But for some reason when he danced with her for the first time he did not immediately try to imagine how she looked under her clothes. Generally Tatsuya was not very demanding of the women he dated. When he had gotten to know them intimately, he had inevitably been disappointed, so that now he acquired girls just as a woman would add a dress of the latest style to her wardrobe. Tatsuya was always picking up some new girl, dropping her, and finding another.

On certain occasions, he and his friends regarded women as indispensable accessories. They enjoyed showing up sporting a new girl friend. If someone appeared with a girl everybody knew, it was like wearing an old suit that everyone had seen many times.

If they can say that changes in fashion mirror the history of women, they could change it around to say that changes in women mirrored the history of the young man Tatsuya, and it would have been true. But though his attitude to women was one of changes, it was also one of simple repetition, because Tatsuya would end up bored by each successive girl. Each affair started out hot but soon cooled off until Tatsuya simply dropped the unfortunate girl.

But what was it that Eiko had that attracted and fascinated him?

One day in early summer she came to see him at his home in Zushi; she was on her way home from nearby Hayama where she had been getting the family summer house ready for the warm weather.

Tatsuya took her out sailing, and by the time they got back it was already getting dark. Eiko decided to spend the night at Hayama rather than go all the way back to Tokyo.

Tatsuya suggested that they eat at his house. After dinner he asked her if she wanted to take a bath before he took her home. Tatsuya's room was in the garden, separated from the rest of the house. She decided to bathe and went off to the bathroom in the main building. When she returned, Tatsuya met her at the door.

"I think I'll take a bath myself. Can you wait a while? There's nobody waiting up for you at Hayama anyhow."

Tatsuya's room contained two sections and a spacious hall-like passage with gym mats on the floor and a punching bag hanging from the ceiling. Eiko went into the hall and took a jab at the bag. It hardly moved. She enjoyed looking at the training equipment and walking on the canvas mats.

After his bath, Tatsuya sluiced himself down with cold water. Suddenly he made up his mind for the first time how he felt toward Eiko.

He covered the upper part of his body with a towel and went in and stood beyond the shoji, the paper-covered lattice door that divided the hall from the other room.

"Eiko!" he called out from outside, and sensing her turn round towards him, he thrust his erection through the thin white paper.

There was a dry snap as the paper ripped. Eiko looked startled, then she flung the book she had been reading at the screen with all her might. The book hit its target and fell to the floor.

For a moment Tatsuya felt the thrill and excitement of the boxing ring. He had found a tough opponent and braced himself for the attack.

He slid the door aside and entered the room completely naked. Eiko, who was sitting on the floor leaning back on one hand, looked up at him. There was a slight smile on her lips and her eyes shone brightly. Her glance questioned and challenged his boldness.

Tatsuya was surprised by her look of excitement, but at the same time he found her eyes fascinatingly beautiful. He stepped forward.

"Show how you can punch the bag?" she said. "Hit it hard."

Without hesitating, he punched it as hard as he could. One, two, one, two. It seemed to crumple up under his blows.

He turned to face her, and she put her arms around him. In a moment he had lifted her up, pushed the curtains aside, carried her into the next room, and placed her on the bed. Eiko laughed. He had never told a girl that he loved her but now he told it to Eiko.

But she was too clever for him. Perhaps it was because he had never been so deeply stirred by a woman before, or because his pace was no match for her eagerness, even though it was he who had challenged first. Eiko seemed to be making him grasp for something out of reach. She twisted away from him before he finally got hold of her. He was caught in a web of her making, and in the end he felt as if it were he who had been seduced.

When Eiko opened her eyes, he felt a feeling of affection and a respect similar to what he felt toward a stronger opponent in the ring. He had been beaten but he felt the excitement that accompanied the desire for retaliation.

But can love born of revenge avoid turning into cruel sport? Why was it that he had not savored the happiness he felt when he had first picked Eiko up and held her in his arms?

Two days later when he was practising in the gym, Sahara came over to him and tapped him.

"Say, Eiko is outside," he whispered. "She says she's afraid to come in herself!"

"I can't leave now. Tell her to come in"

Sahara came back a moment later with Eiko. She was wearing a tight black skirt and a white duster-coat. Everyone looked at her as though she were a handsomely decked out prize-fighter. She walked over to the ring and waved at Tatsuya.

"I've come to tempt you," she said.

"What for?"

"As if you didn't know!" she replied.

When he had finished his training and was leaving the gym, Eda stopped him.

"I hope you're not hot for that one. It'll wreck your training—you'll never last more than three rounds."

Tatsuya and Eiko met for the next three days straight. The second day Tatsuya forgot that they were competing and took another drubbing. On the third night, however, he noticed some dark shadows under her eyes and reckoned he had gained a few points.

A week later he saw Eiko at a night club. She was with someone he did not know. When she saw Tatsuya, she smiled and nodded at him but went on whispering to the man she was with. Forgetting the girl with him, he flared up for a moment. He wondered if she greeted other men like that when she was with him. For the first time in his life he was jealous, although he did not recognize his feeling as such. He only knew that he was disgusted with her. He pretended to ignore the situation and moved away, knowing that to show his anger would give her a hold over him.

He wondered what it was about him that interested Eiko. Was he just another man in her life? Weren't all men really the same to her after an affair? It was not simply things like foreign-looking eyes, ability to play a saxophone, sharp clothes, or the image of a man in the ring. Actually to her all men were just trophies for her bedroom. Even though they were not all the same, it was the same thing that she wanted from each. They could not have given her more than just the fact of their manhood.

Three years before all this, Eiko had been in love. She arranged to meet the man at a hot springs hotel in Yugawara. There she would surrender herself to him. Each left home secretly. Eiko was to arrive at the hotel first. She had not been waiting very long when there was a phone call for her from a nearby hospital. The man had been killed in a collision at a railway crossing. Before he died, he had given Eiko's name and the hotel where she was. The sight of the car, smashed and flattened, made her obsessed with the destruction of other men she loved after that.

Long before, when she was still a little girl, Eiko had grown precociously fond of two of her cousins. They were both killed in the war. After the additional loss of the man she was to have met at Yugawara, she turned into a girl determined to take from men and give nothing in return.

Her first victim was the brother of a friend. He was newly married and Eiko felt a pang of jealousy about his romantic affection for his wife. Soon he became fascinated, forgot his young bride, and ran madly after Eiko. By the time his poor wife heard of the affair, Eiko had already finished with the man.

Her experiences with men changed her into a woman who had to sleep with any man she was attracted to. But sometimes she asked herself what it was she really wanted from life. She would sob to herself in the anguish of what she thought was love, but as soon as the tension was relieved, she realized that she was not in love at all and became sickened by the man's desire for her. She regretted she was no longer the unsophisticated girl she had been before the fatal car accident. She felt as if her former self had died with the man she had loved.

The city creates unusual happenings, such as chance meetings of men and women. Eiko and Tatsuya had met like this. But that time it was Tatsuya who had made the first move. She treasured that fact. During the two months they had known each other, she had not once made the first move. Although she did not realize it herself, perhaps she was beginning to expect something significant from their chance meeting.

Her attitude to life did not allow her to give, and yet she knew that even if she took everything that Tatsuya had to offer, she could never regain her lost innocence. If she got angry or impatient with Tatsuya that third night, it was not because of him; the anger and impatience were directed against herself.

When a week later she saw Tatsuya at the night club, she had been with the cousin of a friend. The chance meeting had given her the opportunity to analyze her feelings for Tatsuya objectively.

Tatsuya had felt insulted rather than jealous. It was the same feeling he had had once before when he had an affair with a cheap striptease dancer. Her lover, boss of the quarter, told him to break it off. Tatsuya had quickly bowed out strategically before it came to blows.

About a week after he had seen Eiko at the night club, Eda came up to him in the gym.

"How's Eiko?" he asked, posing indifferently.

"So so. I see quite a bit of her these days," replied Tatsuya.

"Wasn't she dancing with you at the Caspian Club the other night? I should have come over and joined you."

Tatsuya had not been to the Caspian for a long time. He was angry at Eda's remarks but did not show it.

That evening Tatsuya went to a night club as usual with some of his friends. During the course of the evening the hostess who had been sitting at their table suddenly left them and went across to another table. Nishimura, who had been interested in the girl, was a little annoyed at her disappearance. Tatsuya turned around to see what was happening at the other table. One of the three men at the table was amusing the girls with jokes and gestures. He looked vaguely familiar to Tatsuya. It was the man who had been with Eiko at the other night club. And it might have been the same man that Eda had seen her with at the Caspian two days before. Tatsuya casually asked one of the hostesses who he was.

"He's the leader of the Five Roses combo. I think he plays the trumpet. His band is doing very well at the Caspian."

When the man got up and moved onto the dance floor, Tatsuya grabbed a partner and followed. He danced the girl close to the man in order to step on his foot, but another couple got in the way and instead the man trod on Tatsuya's foot. The man merely cast a glance at Tatsuya and moved away. Tatsuya was furious. Perhaps the man thought it was not necessary to apologize because he was tall and thick-set, while Tatsuya appeared to be rather skinny in his fashionably tight suit.

Tatsuya was about to say something but returned to his table. He asked the women around him to check whether there were local gangsters in the hall, and then knowing he was safe, he had a hurried conference with his friends. Tamiya, the smallest of them, went over to the man and loudly asked him to come outside. Tatsuya pulled off Nishimura's belt and bound it around his hand to protect his fingers. Tamiya walked up to the top of the stairs ahead of the man.

He stopped and turned to him, saying, "Well, do you want to hear what it's all about?"

"Yeah, let's have it!"

"Better ask the guy behind you, eh!"

As he looked around he met Tatsuya's smashing blow to his mouth. The trumpet player fell down to the landing.

Tatsuya gripped him by the scruff of his neck and said, "You know why I hit you, don't you?"

"For stepping on your foot, I suppose," he muttered, licking the blood oozing out from his upper lip.

"Don't play dumb! You know what it's all about!"

Tatsuya hit him again on the jaw, forcing the man's teeth to cut into his own already bleeding lower lip.

"From tomorrow you quit your trumpet and shake the maracas—and out of tempo at that."

Tatsuya felt as excited as a child watching a western film. He could not have been more satisfied with himself.

When he told the story to Eiko afterwards, she laughed and clapped her hands in delight. This pleased Tatsuya and he too laughed.

"I do believe you're jealous, Tatsuya!" she said and laughed again as if she had made a discovery.

"Was I jealous?" he wondered. "Anyway," he mused, "I'm glad I knocked the fellow down. It made me feel good and Eiko, she's laughing too. It couldn't be better."

When he had knocked the man down, Tatsuya did not know exactly what had been going on in his mind. But he was satisfied that he had done the right thing without hesitation. What was important was that he had done what he wanted, in the way he wanted. Why he had done so was not the question. He was only interested whether he had succeeded or not. He never looked back on his actual conduct. Whether he was satisfied or not, that was all. Afterward, there was no chance to feel guilty for what he did, however violent. Others would criticize him for his actual deeds, but he would judge himself only on his impulses.

Tatsuya was not lecherous. His main interest was in doing the taking. That was where he got his satisfaction. When a bar girl or cabaret hostess said she loved him, he would turn away and not be led on. If he found himself being seduced by a girl instead of doing the seducing, he would start making fun of her. He preferred having some resistance to overcome.

Eiko and Tatsuya spent the night in a small hotel in the suburbs. But as usual, it was only Eiko who found satisfaction.

Summer came, and Tatsuya and his brother Michihisa began repainting their sailboat. They did this every year. First they repaired the carved hull and filled in the cracks with putty and then sandpapered the surface smooth. They were like two women fussing over their faces. While they worked they reminisced about the previous summer and thought up things to do during the present one. They had found from experience that their boat was just as successful an aid to seduction as autos were for some of their friends.

"Girls who fall for a car are just not in the same class as those that fall for a yacht," Tatsuya said to one of these friends one day. "There's no need to wear anything out of sea. You can get to know each other pretty well without clothes on, and there are no cops out there!"

On the strength of this advice, the friend talked his father into buying a boat even though they did not have a seaside house.

Tatsuya and his brother renamed the boat each summer. They had an annual argument over what they should call it. The previous year it had been Popular, and the year before, Dandy. This year Tatsuya wanted to call it Climb On, but his brother flatly refused.

"What kind of name is that? This is a boat, not a girl."

Finally Michihisa, whose turn it was, decided to name it Bel Ami after a French writer's article.

"Bel Ami" sounds like 'blimey,' but if you insist, it's okay," Tatsuya said.

When Nishimura came back from the mountains, the members of their group met together at his seaside house in Hayama. It was the second week of the summer vacation. The two brothers used to avoid the crowded beaches and sail along to Nishimura's place near Isshiki Beach. The boat was usually moored there or at the harbor.

Now the area was populated by well-off young people whose families had summer houses. Most were soon looking for boy or girl friends to while away the time with.

Eiko appeared at her family's house in Hayama. She and Tatsuya met oftener than before at the yacht club or the hotel and sometimes went out sailing.

Meanwhile Tatsuya was also making new conquests: a shop-girl, a not-quite famous photographer's model, a second-rate actress who was dull but, Tatsuya said, very pretty.

He would tell Eiko about his new girls from time to time but was quite disappointed to get no reaction from her beyond a smile.

One afternoon in August he asked her out sailing just before the evening calm. He took food and drink so that they could eat at sea and return in the cool of the evening when the breeze freshened. The Bel Ami was still sailing towards Enoshima Island when other boats began to head for shore. Later, off Inamuragasaki, the wind died down, so Tatsuya lowered the sails and dropped anchor. With a rustle of wings a dragon-fly flitted over the dark glassy sea, and they could hear the faint klaxon of cars rushing on a distant highway. Eiko tuned on the portable radio, from which poured some suitably romantic music.

They watched the bright afterglow in the sky. If there had not been the faint lapping of the waves against the hull, the sea could have been a shiny floor for the two to dance on.

"Hey, they're giving us a good tune."

"Too bad we can't do anything about it!"

"Yeah, we'd need the deck of a cruiser at least."

The afterglow gradually disappeared, but the water continued to twinkle. Suddenly a fish jumped out of the water in front of them.

"What's that?"

"Just a fish."

"Are you sure?"

The moon was not up yet. Tatsuya took off his aloha shirt.

"I'm going in for a swim. I feel hot after drinking."

He dived over the stern and for a moment the smooth sea was disturbed by a series of large concentric rings. Eiko began to worry and stared anxiously at the water. But in a moment his head shot out of the water some distance away.

"Come on in. The water's warm."

"Wait a minute. I'm coming."

And she too plunged in. The boat pitched and tossed and the water slapped against the bow. When she surfaced, she could not see Tatsuya. She began to swim to where she thought Tatsuya had been, but all she could see was the dim outline of the boat.

"Tatsu!" she called, but there was no answer.

She felt scared and turned back, and suddenly there was Tatsuya beside her laughing.

"Here I am. Did you think I was lost?"

As she swam closer to him, something slimy touched her.

"Help! What's that?" She grabbed hold of him in terror.