ECEMBER 3

SHIBUYA: SOME FOREIGNERS (?), ¥10,000

The day after I met Yuriko, we had a spell of balmy springlike weather. It’s hard to pick up a customer while battling the freezing December winds; frigid weather tends to chill romantic notions. It’s much easier when the nights are warm and the customer is in high spirits. Seeing the good weather, I figured I’d have a good night. One of the interesting aspects of standing on the corner is seeing how the weather and the mood affect business. Every day it’s different. When I worked for the hotel escort agency, I never had an opportunity to make observations like these.

I headed toward the Jiz statue in a good mood, humming a song. Once I got there I waited for Yuriko. I only half believed she’d show up. What on earth could she be thinking? I couldn’t even imagine. When we were in high school she stood out from all the rest. She was so beautiful it was difficult even to approach her. And because she was always gazing off into space, clearly focused on nothing, she seemed even more inaccessible. I was always too intimidated to speak to her. It wasn’t that she was absent-minded; she was a master of measuring the subtle differences between herself and others. If someone asked her a question, she’d answer. Otherwise, she kept her mouth clamped shut. That was Yuriko. And I despised the sober self-aware look in her eye. But our cool Yuriko grew ugly as she grew older. Fate chased her down and devoured her. Time has a way of leveling the playing field. As I grew older, I gained a sense of self-worth and superiority. Compared to the lonely impoverished Yuriko, I now had a great job at a great firm. I suppose the fact that I had once been a properly raised lady in a decent family had a lot to do with it. As I stood there thinking that, I wanted to burst out laughing. Decent family! What a joke. It was falling apart.

“Saint Jiz, I’m an entirely different person now. And I’m insanely happy!”

My face wreathed in smiles, I looked up at the Jiz, who was smiling quietly, as if to match my excitement. I fished through my purse for the shiniest ten-yen coin I could find, placed it in front of the statue, and brought my hands together in prayer.

“Saint Jiz, please give me four customers tonight. That’s the goal I’m setting for myself. My mission is to meet my goal. Please do what you can to help me out.”

Before I could even finish my prayer, two student types started walking toward me from Shinsen Station, speaking to each other in subdued tones. I turned back to Jiz. “Hey, quick work! Thanks a million.”

The students noticed me standing there in the dark and looked over at me as if they’d seen a ghost. I called out to them, “Hey, fellas, would one of you like to party?” They looked bewildered and poked each other with their elbows.

“Come on. It’ll be fun. Let’s party.”

The students were young. They looked at me in disgust, turned away, and ran. I recalled how people at work tried to avoid eye contact with me, as if they’d seen something disgusting. Even my mother, my younger sister, all they had to do was look at me and they’d cringe. It seemed that whoever looked at me could not help but recoil.

Was I completely out of bounds? I had no idea how I looked to others. I headed off in the direction the two boys had taken.

“Let’s party our brains out. Come on. I’ll do you both. We can go to a hotel and I’ll do you both for fifteen thousand yen. What do you say?”

The two were speechless. They practically started running when they saw me behind them. But I can’t let my prey get away! And then, at that instant, I heard someone call out, “Try me. I’ll do you each, one by one.”

I couldn’t believe it. The woman on the street ahead of me, with her arms stretched out wide, was done up exactly like me. She tried to block the boys from going past her. The boys, completely taken aback, came to a halt.

“I’ll give you a better deal—five thousand yen each.”

Her black wig fell to her waist. She had a Burberry trench coat like mine, black high heels, and a brown shoulder bag. She’d painted her lids with thick blue eye shadow, and her lips were bright red. It was Yuriko. The boys, now completely panicked, ran past her. She looked back after them and then turned around and shrugged.

“They got away.”

“Well, of course, you terrified them.”

I was angry, but Yuriko didn’t seem to care. “Don’t sweat it. The night is young. What do you think, Kazue? Do I look like you?”

Yuriko opened her trench coat. Underneath she was wearing a cheap blue suit. It resembled the one I wore. I stared at the thick layer of white foundation Yuriko wore. She looked like a clown. It was hideous. Is that what I look like? I was furious.

“Do you think I look like that?”

“You do, Kazue. You look like a monster.”

“Well, whatever happened to the beautiful half you used to be? You’re fat and ugly now.”

Yuriko smiled scornfully, her lips curling up the way foreigners’ mouths do.

“Laugh all you want but you’re no better.”

“What do you mean, I’m no better?” I asked. “Don’t I look like a businesswoman?”

Yuriko turned an unfocused gaze on me and snorted. “No. I don’t see it. You don’t look like a businesswoman or even a young woman. In fact, you don’t even look like a middle-aged woman. All you look like is a monster. M-o-n-s-t-e-r.”

I stared at Yuriko, my mirror image. Both of us were monsters.

“Well, if I’m a monster, you’re one too, Yuriko.”

“Yeah, I suppose so. A pair of whores standing around in the same outfits must be terrifying. But you know, there are men in this world who like monsters. It’s weird when you think about it. On the other hand, I suppose you could say it’s men who made us into monsters. Kazue, when is it okay for me to stand here? If it’s going to be a problem I’ll go over and stand in front of Shinsen Station.”

“Absolutely not,” I said, in no uncertain terms. “Shinsen Station’s included in my turf. I inherited the area from the Marlboro Hag, and if you don’t follow my instructions I won’t share any of it with you.”

“The Marlboro Hag?” Yuriko asked, looking up at the Jiz statue, clearly with little interest in the question.

“That’s the old woman who used to work this area. She died right after she retired.”

Yuriko smirked. Her teeth were stained yellow from cigarettes.

“What a shitty way to go. I suspect I’ll be killed by a john. Probably you too, Kazue. That’s the way it goes when you’re on the prowl. The minute a man turns up who likes monsters, you can be sure he’ll be the one who’ll do us in, you and me.”

“Why the hell do you think that? You’ve got to have a more positive attitude!”

“I don’t think my attitude is negative.” Yuriko shook her head in denial. “After whoring for twenty years, I’ve come to know men for what they really are. Or wait. Perhaps I should say I know who we really are. At heart, a man truly hates a woman who sells her body. And any woman who sells her body hates the men who pay her for it. You get two people together with all that hate, somebody’s going to kill someone before too long. I’m just waiting for my day to come. When it does, I don’t plan to fight. I’m just going to let myself be killed.”

I wondered if Yoshizaki and Arai hated me. What about the sadist Eguchi? I couldn’t understand Yuriko’s perspective. Had she seen into the future? Had she looked at the hell that lay ahead of her? It was different for me, wasn’t it? I frequently enjoyed selling my body, though it was true that there were times when it was little more than a miserable moneymaking scheme.

The neon lights over the love hotel were flickering. At that instant Yuriko’s profile floated in the dark like some kind of heavenly visage. I was reminded again of the ethereal beauty she possessed in high school. It was as if I’d slipped back in time.

“Yuriko, do you really hate men? I always thought you liked men so much you could never get enough of them.”

Yuriko turned back to look at me. When I saw her face straight on, she looked like a dumpy middle-aged woman again.

“I hate men, but I love sex. It’s the opposite for you, isn’t it, Kazue?”

I wonder. Do I love men and hate sex? Do I walk the streets just so I can get close to men? That’s the wrong way of going about it. Yuriko’s question shocked me.

“If you and I became one, we’d be perfect. We’d be able to live the ultimate life. But on the other hand, if it’s the perfect life you want, best not to be born a woman.”

“So, Kazue? When are you going to let me work your corner?”

“Come after I’ve gone home. I always take the last train to Fujimigaoka at twelve-twenty-eight. If you want to come by after I’ve left, that’s fine with me. You can stand the rest of the night if you want.”

“You are too kind. Thank you so very much,” Yuriko said sarcastically.

She walked off toward Shinsen Station, the hem of her coat flapping in the breeze. I looked up at the Jiz statue in irritation. I felt Yuriko had soiled me and the ground I stood on with her presence.

“Saint Jiz, am I a monster? How was it that I became this monster? Please teach me, I pray.”

Of course, the Jiz does not speak. I looked up into the night sky. The neon signs along Dogenzaka had dyed the sky pink. I could hear the sound of the wind rushing high above my head. It was growing colder by the minute. Seeing the tips of the treetops shivering brought an end to the bright mood I had enjoyed earlier. A bitter winter chill had crept into the night air. The minute a man turns up who likes monsters, you can be sure he’ll be the one who’ll do us in, you and me. Yuriko’s prophecy echoed over and over in my head, but I wasn’t frightened. I wasn’t afraid of men; I was afraid of the monster I had become. I wondered if I could ever go back to my old self.

I heard a voice behind me. “Is that statue a god?” Embarrassed to be caught unaware, I quickly adjusted my wig and turned to look around. A man wearing jeans and a black leather jacket stood there. He wasn’t particularly tall, but he was muscular. He looked to be in his mid-thirties. I felt a rush of excitement. Recently most of my customers had been either old men or homeless bums.

“You’ve been here to pray before, haven’t you? So I’m assuming this is a god.”

He was a foreigner. I stepped out of the shadows and peered at the man’s face. His hair was thinning but he was not unattractive. He looked like he’d make a good customer.

“A god, yes. It’s my god.”

“Really? Well, it certainly does have a nice face. I walk past here fairly often and always wonder what kind of statue this is.”

The man had a very polite and calm way of speaking. Very calm. But I had a difficult time understanding what

he meant.

“Do you live nearby?”

“Yes, in an apartment building beside Shinsen Station.”

We could use his room and save on hotel fees. I began making the calculations in my head. He didn’t seem to realize I was a prostitute. Curious, he continued to question me.

“What were you praying for?”

“I was asking the god to tell me whether or not I look like a monster.”

“Monster?” The man seemed startled by my response and peered into my face. “I think you look like a pretty woman.”

“Thank you. In that case, do you want to buy me?”

Startled, the man backpedaled several steps.

“I can’t. I don’t have much money.”

The man pulled one neatly folded ten-thousand-yen bill from his pocket. I stared at his honest-looking face, wondering what type he’d be. In my experience, there are two types of customers. The majority are boastful, hide their true feelings, and tell all kinds of lies. They act like they have money and pretend to be willing to dole it out. But they’re really flat broke and you have to be careful they don’t take you for a ride. However they play the game, they are liars and expect you to lie about being in love with them. The other type is much less common, and that’s the honest type. They tell you from the very beginning that they don’t have much money, and then they negotiate tenaciously on the price. This type usually just wants straight-up sex and doesn’t want anything to do with love or passion or any of that. I’m not very good at handling the honest type. I’m just a prostitute who’s good for an old-fashioned lay.

“Is that all you have?” I asked the man.

“I have ten thousand yen, but I can’t spend it all. I have to have money to get to Shinjuku tomorrow.”

“Well, let’s see. To get to Shinjuku from Shibuya and back will take three hundred yen round trip.”

The man shook his head. “I’ve got to have money for lunch and for smokes. And if I meet up with a friend I’ll want to buy him at least one bottle of beer. I mean, that’s the right thing to do.”

“Well, you should be able to do all that on a thousand yen.”

“No way. I’d need at least two thousand.”

“Okay, then let’s say eight thousand. I’ll do you for eight thousand yen.”

I quickly linked my arm through the man’s before he could change his mind. The man looked at me in shock and shook his arm free.

“You’d sell your body for just eight thousand yen? I can’t believe it.”

I can’t believe it. The man repeated this over and again. Well, I was having a hard time believing it myself. After I’d done the homeless man for the same amount it was as if something inside me had begun to crumble. I was willing to take any man as a customer; I would do it anywhere and at almost any price. Once I hadn’t wanted to go below ¥30,000 but now I was willing to do it for anything. I’d fallen to just about the lowest rank of prostitute possible.

“This will be the first time for me to buy such a cheap woman. I wonder if it’s safe,” the man said.

“What are you talking about, safe?”

“I mean, you aren’t that old. And even though you’re wearing heavy makeup, you’re not that ugly. So why would you charge so little? I just think it’s odd, that’s all.”

I detected a glint of derision in the man’s eyes. I fished my corporate ID out of my purse.

“Well, then, let me set the record straight. I’m employed as a staff member at one of the biggest firms in the nation. I graduated from Q University, so you know I have to be intelligent.”

The man walked over to a streetlamp and studied my ID card. After he pored over it, nodding as he did so, he brought it back.

“I’m impressed. The next time you try to pick up a customer you should show him your ID. I’ll bet a lot of men would be drawn to a woman who’s employed at such a distinguished firm.”

“I do show them.”

When the man heard my response he laughed, flashing his white teeth. The way he laughed took my heart away. I hardly ever saw men laugh like that, and I found myself drawn to him. I enjoy it when men make a fuss over me—especially men who are my superiors. It was like this with my father. It was the same when I first joined the firm. All my superiors there treated me to praise and I loved it. And now here I was, wrapped in nostalgia. I peered up into the man’s face and said in a little-girl voice, “Did I say something funny? Why are you laughing?”

“God, you’re so cute. I thought you were doing this to raise your value. But things aren’t what they seem, are they?”

I could not understand what he was trying to say. There were men out there, like Yoshizaki, who got off on the fact that I was a graduate of Q University and an employee at a top-rate firm. And that’s why I made a habit of showing my ID card to all potential customers. So what was this guy going on about?

“Why do you say things aren’t what they seem?”

“Forget it.”

He brushed my question aside and turned to leave.

“Hey, wait. Where’d you like to do it? I’ll do it wherever you want. I’ll even do it outside, if you want.”

The man waved for me to follow and I rushed after him awkwardly. I was willing to do it for ¥8,000 and do it anywhere. I didn’t want this man to get away. I’m not sure I understood why. The man turned left at a dark intersection and followed the road that dipped down before ending at Shinsen Station. I wondered if he was taking me to his room. I could feel the damp night air on my cheeks as I followed him, full of nervous excitement. The man turned down a narrow road in front of Shinsen Station, walked about three hundred feet, and stopped in front of a four-story apartment building. The building was old and the entry hall looked as if it hadn’t been cleaned in ages. Torn newspapers and empty cans lay scattered about. But it was close to the station and the individual units themselves didn’t seem particularly small.

“You live in a nice place. Which room do you rent?” I asked.

The man pressed his finger to his lips, signaling for me not to speak. Then he headed up the stairs. There was no elevator, and the stairs were strewn with garbage.

“What floor are we going to?”

“I’ve got friends staying in my apartment, so we can’t go there,” the man muttered, in a low voice. “So I thought we’d go to the roof. Okay?”

“I don’t mind. It’s warm tonight.”

I was going to do it outside again after all. Being in the open air had its advantages. But it also seemed so dirty, like going to the bathroom in the woods. My feeling of freedom did not really overcome the filthiness. I climbed the stairs in a state of confusion. The flight of stairs from the fourth floor to the roof was littered with all kinds of stuff, as if someone had dumped the contents of their dresser drawers there. There were sake bottles, cassette tapes, stationery, photographs, sheets, torn T-shirts, and English-language paperbacks. The man picked his way through the junk, kicking it to the side as we went. I glanced at one of the photographs that he kicked aside. It was a picture of a white man surrounded by young Japanese men and women. They were all smiling. There were other photographs of this man too.

“That’s a Canadian language teacher. He defaulted on his rent and ended up living on the roof for a couple of months. He said he didn’t need this stuff so he just left it behind. It’s all garbage.”

“Photographs and letters are garbage? A Japanese person would never throw away a letter someone had sent him or pictures of himself.”

I could hear the man laugh in the darkness.

“If you don’t need it anymore, it’s garbage.” He turned back to look at me. “I suppose Japanese people don’t like to see this kind of thing. But as a foreign laborer myself, let me tell you that I’d like to forget all about Japan. I’d leave it as a big empty gap in my life if I could. It wouldn’t bother me. The most important things are in our home country.”

“I suppose it’s nice to have a home country.”

“It is.”

“Are you Chinese? What’s your name?”

“I’m Zhang. My father was a government official from Beijing, but he lost everything in the Cultural Revolution. I got sent down to a small commune in Heilongjiang Province. Once I got there, I’d get picked on if I even mentioned my father’s name.”

“So I guess you were a member of the intelligentsia.”

“No. I was a smart kid, but I was always prevented from advancing my education. Someone like you wouldn’t be able to understand.”

Zhang offered me his hand. I grabbed it and he helped me onto the trash-strewn roof. It was surrounded by a concrete wall about three feet high, and in one corner a refrigerator stood alongside a mattress—just as if it were a room without walls or ceiling. The mattress was soiled and torn in places so that the springs showed through. There was a rusty toaster oven and a suitcase with a smashed lid. I looked over the wall at the street below. There wasn’t a person in sight, but the cars whizzed past at an immoderate speed. I could hear a man and a woman talking in one of the second-floor apartments of the building next door. I saw a train on the Inokashira Line bound for Shibuya pull into Shinsen Station.

“No one can see, so let’s do it here,” Zhang said. “Please take off your clothes.”

“All of them?”

“Of course. I want to see what you look like naked.”

Zhang crossed his arms and sat on a corner of the filthy mattress. With little choice I stripped until I was completely naked. While I stood there shivering with cold, Zhang shook his head, “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but you’re too skinny. A skinny body like yours just doesn’t turn me on. I’m not going to pay you eight thousand yen.”

I yanked my Burberry coat over my shoulders, furious.

“How much will you pay?”

“Five thousand yen.”

“Okay then, five thousand.”

When he heard me agree, Zhang asked incredulously, “Why? I don’t believe it!”

“Well, you’re the one setting the price here.”

“I’m negotiating. You give in too easily. I guess that’s what you’ve always done. But in China you wouldn’t last a day. Lucky for you you were born in Japan. My little sister wouldn’t have let me get away with a bargain like this.”

I couldn’t figure out what Zhang was trying to say and was just about at my wits’ end. It was freezing. A cold north wind had come up, and there was no trace of the earlier warm night air. I stared down at the torn blanket covering the mattress and said nothing. Zhang began to grow impatient as well.

“So? What’s it going to be?”

“You decide. I only try to please the customer.”

“Aren’t you in this for the business? I can’t believe you’re so lacking in ambition. You are really an unattractive woman, you know. I’ll bet you aren’t any better at your other workplace either. Japanese people are all the same. If you had a little more individuality, you might be a better prostitute. You would, wouldn’t you?”

What a pain in the ass he was turning out to be. I had an easier time figuring out Eguchi and his disgusting demands. I began to collect my clothes.

“What are you doing? Did I tell you you could put your clothes back on?” Zhang asked, bemused. He drew closer to me.

“Well, you’re being difficult, and I really don’t feel like standing here listening to your lectures.”

“You look the type who would like lectures.”

Zhang grabbed me tightly and I leaned into him. His leather coat was cool against my bare skin.

“Hurry up and take off your clothes.”

“I’m not undressing. I want you to suck me off just like this.”

I got down on my knees and pulled the zipper on Zhang’s jeans. He pulled his dick out from his shorts and pushed it into my mouth. He rambled away while he had me suck him.

“You’re really a submissive girl. You do everything I tell you to do, since I’m your customer. I wonder why that is. I don’t know much about Q University, but I imagine it’s one of the more prestigious institutions in Japan. In China, girls who graduate from university wouldn’t dare do what you’re doing. All they can think about is their own career—making it to the top. It looks like you’ve given up on your career. I guess you got tired of being submissive at work, so instead you submit to men you’ve never met. Am I wrong? You know, men don’t really like women who are submissive. My little sister was extremely attractive. Her name was Mei-kun. She’s dead now, but I really respected her. I loved her. No matter how difficult things became or how she had to struggle, she always fought her way to the top. She was always looking for the next challenge. I hate a woman who looks back. I could never love a woman like you. That’s what lets me treat you like this.”

Zhang gradually grew more excited as he talked. I took my mouth off his penis and quickly fumbled through my purse for a condom. Zhang was still sitting on the mattress. He drew me closer and started kissing me roughly. I was startled. I’d never been embraced that way by a customer. Zhang started to move his hips on top of me and I felt a change taking place inside me that I had never experienced before. What was happening? I was burning. All this time I had been faking orgasms and now I was finally having the real thing? It wasn’t possible! Oh, God! I clung to Zhang’s leather jacket.

“Oh, God, save me!”

Startled by my cry, Zhang looked up and stared into my face. And then he came. I held my breath and clung to him, trying to draw him closer, but he quickly pulled away.

“Why did you say save me just now?” Zhang asked, with an earnest expression. “I held you just now as if you were my little sister; that’s why it made you feel good, isn’t it? I think you should thank me.”

Was he still haggling over the price? I was panting so hard I could hardly focus. When I came to my senses, I realized that my wig had slipped off and Zhang was playing with it.

“My little sister had long hair too. About like this. Poor thing, she fell into the ocean, and I watched her die.”

Zhang’s face had grown dark.

“Mr. Zhang, I’ll be glad to listen to your story, but that’ll bring the price back up to eight thousand yen.”

Zhang raised his head. He looked irritated, as if I had interrupted his thoughts.

“Well, that doesn’t surprise me. You have to devote all your energy to selling your body. No wonder you aren’t much interested in what your customers have to say. All you can think about is yourself.” He spat these words out angrily and stood up to leave.

A northern wind had suddenly come up, swirling the trash on the rooftop. Zhang hooked the zipper on his jacket, which fell to about his waist, and pulled it up to his chin with a harsh yank. I wanted to give him a piece of my mind but hesitated because I didn’t want to get into a big argument before I’d gotten my money. But it was so typical of a foreigner. So typical of a man to be insensitive to my distress. I hurled all kind of expletives at Zhang—silently. But what irked me most was the fact that this was the first time I had ever really enjoyed sex, and yet he pushed me away so coldly. Was it the completely indifferent way he treated me that had turned me on? As for my own distress, what exactly did I have to be distressed about?

With utter seriousness, I told Zhang, “I’ll have you know that not all my clients patronize me just for sex. One is a university professor who enjoys conversing with me on a variety of subjects. We discuss his current research projects and he keeps me informed of their progress. Our relationship extends into the academic. And there are others as well. Another is deputy chief of operations for a chemical manufacturer. He tells me about the difficulties that go on in his company, and I give him advice on how to deal with it. He’s always very grateful. So, you see, I do listen to my clients. But those are men who take me to hotels and pay me a proper fee. And furthermore, they are all intelligent men who are able to carry on substantive conversations.”

I couldn’t tell if Zhang had heard anything I’d said. He looked bored and scratched listlessly at the edge of his mouth. The wind blew his hair back off his face and I could see he had a receding hairline. Go figure: a handsome enough face but balding! I began to grow bitter over the fact that I’d been coerced into doing my business atop this windblown garbage dump of a roof. I threw the used condom against the rough concrete surface of the rooftop and watched as Zhang’s semen splashed out.

“Just going to toss it away like trash, huh?” Zhang asked, when he saw what I’d done with the condom. A twinge of emotion leaked through his words.

I laughed.

“Didn’t you just say you wanted to forget all about Japan and everything that’s happened here?” I asked. “You’re going to have no trouble tossing me aside just like the trash on the stairs back there.”

Zhang turned back to look at me but said nothing. He opened the door to the staircase, and I could see a dull orange glow. The entrance to the trash-strewn stairway looked like the mouth to a dark cave. I continued my assault.

“While we were in the midst of things back there, you kept talking about your sister. Are you into hentai, some kind of perversion? Isn’t that off limits?”

“Why?” Zhang glanced up in surprise. “What’s wrong with it?”

“What’s wrong with it? It sounds like you were having sex with your sister. That’s incest! And if you weren’t actually doing it, it seems like you wanted to, didn’t you? I mean, isn’t that bestial?”

“Bestial?” Zhang shook his head. “No, it’s beautiful. We might have been brother and sister, but we were also like husband and wife. What relationship could be more intimate than that? We’d been together our entire lives. When my sister came to Japan, she betrayed me. She decided she’d come first, and she tricked me so she could get away. But I used every resource I had and tracked her down. I think her drowning at sea was an act of fate. I stuck out my hand to try to save her but I couldn’t reach her. Maybe I didn’t want to reach her; I’ve thought about that. I feel sorry for her now, but at the time I thought she got what was coming to her. Do you think I’m a devil? What would that make a whore like you?”

I had no idea how to respond. This man had let his sister die—but then, that wasn’t any business of mine. I belted my trench coat around my waist and used the tissue I’d gotten at the station to blot my lipstick. I looked over toward the hills of Maruyama-ch. Surrounded by these hills, Shinsen Station looked like it was down in the bottom of a valley—and my own feeling was bottoming out as well. I wanted to get back to the lights of Dogenzaka. I had the sneaking suspicion that Yuriko was staking out my turf in front of the Jiz statue, and the idea was making me nervous. I wanted to get paid and be on my way. I stole a glance at Zhang, but he looked as if he were going to keep talking forever. He took out a cheap lighter and lit up a cigarette.

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” he asked.

I nodded, an image of my younger sister’s dour face floating up before me.

“Yes, I have a younger sister.”

“What’s she like?”

She’s a nose-to-the-grindstone sort who works for a manufacturing firm. She leaves the house every morning at seven-thirty and she’s back at six every night, like clockwork, after stopping first at the grocery store on her way home. She’s very simple. She carries her lunch to work and is able to save over a hundred thousand yen of her salary every month. Talk about frugal! I’ve hated her ever since we were children. She was always back in the shadows, silently watching my successes and failures, determined not to follow in my footsteps. She was a sensible girl. She went to college with money I provided, and she and my mother are now much too fine for me! I thought all this but of course I didn’t say it aloud.

Zhang looked over at me.

“Have you ever wished that your younger sister was dead?” he asked.

“The thought never leaves my mind. But there are other people I’d like to see dead as well!”

“Like who?” Zhang was absolutely earnest.

Who would I like to see dead? My mother, Kamei, the office manager—lots and lots of people, I thought. So many I can’t even remember their faces now, let alone their names. I don’t really like anyone. And I’ve never been loved by anyone, I suddenly realized. I simply ply the waters of the night on my own. I could well imagine the way Zhang’s younger sister looked as she lifted her hand above the surface of the dark sea. Stretching, stretching for help. I wasn’t like Zhang’s sister. I wasn’t asking for help. I would tread the frozen waters of this sealike city until my hands and feet were too numb to move. Drifting down, down, until my lungs collapsed under the pressure of the water, I would let the waves carry me away. There was no better sensation than this! Feeling liberated, I gave a big stretch. Zhang flicked his cigarette butt away.

“So who’s the most revolting customer you’ve had?”

I thought immediately of Eguchi. “I had a customer who wanted to watch me shit.”

Zhang’s eyes flashed. “So what did you do?”

“I did it. I knew he was deadly serious, which literally scared the shit out of me!”

“Well, then, I guess you’ll do anything, huh?”

“Probably.”

“You’re badder than me, that’s for sure. I’ve done a lot of things in my time; I was the gigolo for a famous woman once. But you take the cake.”

Zhang took a neatly folded ¥10,000 bill out of his pocket and handed it to me. I took ¥2,000 out of my wallet and offered it to him as change, but he pressed it back in my hand.

“Do you want your change? Or are you giving me ten thousand yen?”

“No, I’m not going to give it to you. We made a deal. I want you to earn the ¥2,000.”

Zhang murmured this, his mouth next to my ear. I hurriedly put the thousand yen notes back in my purse.

“What do you mean by earn it?”

“My room is right below where we are. I have a friend there. He doesn’t have a girlfriend and is really lonely. He’s always complaining about it. Kind of pathetic, huh? I’d like you to help him out, okay? Do him as an add-on. He’s a friend, so I’d like to treat him.”

“It’ll take more than two thousand yen.”

I flashed Zhang a disgusted look. But I was freezing up on the roof and the idea of thawing out in his room was appealing. Besides, I had to use the bathroom.

Zhang looked at me slyly. “Please. It won’t take long. And he’ll wear one of those so there’ll be no danger.” He pointed at the condom I’d thrown down earlier.

“Can I use your bathroom?”

“Help yourself.”

I followed Zhang down the stairs. He stopped in front of the apartment on the corner of the fourth floor. The paint on the front door was chipping, and all kinds of empty liquor bottles and beer bottles were lined up beside it. You could tell at a glance that the apartment was occupied by messy men. Zhang turned the key in the lock and stepped in ahead of me. The smell of greasy hamburgers and male body odor wafted out. The narrow entryway was cluttered with dirty shoes and sneakers with the backs flattened to look like slip-ons.

“They’re young, not neat like me.” Zhang laughed as he tried to explain the untidiness. “I make my own meals. But young people today, they just eat McDonald’s!”

“Your friend is young?”

If he were young he’d make lots of demands. Since I usually only deal with older men, I felt a small spark of excitement—along with a touch of fear—at the prospect of doing a young man. Zhang gave me a shove and I stepped into the entryway.

“There’s a young one and then another who’s about my age.”

Two men? I was taken aback. And then at that instant I heard a conversation in Chinese. The sliding door opened and a man wearing a black shirt and an equally black expression stuck his head out. He looked to be Zhang’s age. His long hair was unkempt, jet-black, and lusterless. His shirt was open at the front.

“This guy is called Dragon.”

Is he the one I’m supposed to do? I wondered. I smiled at him sweetly.

“Good evening,” I said.

“Who’re you, a friend of Zhang’s?”

“That’s right. It’s nice to meet you.”

I caught Dragon and Zhang exchanging glances and felt my guard go up. I tried to look as far back in the apartment as I could. There wasn’t much to it. It consisted of a six-mat room and a three-mat area, attached to which was a tiny kitchen and bath. How many men are bunking down here? I wondered. It’s hardly big enough for one! Zhang said he wanted me to do his friend, so I assumed he meant Dragon.

“Take your shoes off and go on in.”

Zhang bent over as if to help me out of my shoes, but I took them off just fine on my own. I lined my high heels up neatly in the filthy tangle of men’s shoes. How long had it been since they’d bothered to clean? I wondered. The seams of the tatami were thick with grime and dust, the filth of another world.

That’s when I saw another man sitting in the corner by the sliding door that partitioned off the rooms. When he realized that I was looking at him, the man raised his sparse eyebrows, but his expression hardly changed at all. He was wearing a gray warm-up suit and glasses.

“That’s Chen-yi. He’s got a part-time job at a pachinko parlor in Shinkoiwa.”

“What do you do, Dragon?” I asked.

“Oh, a little of this and a little of that. Not something you can easily sum up in one word.”

Dragon was not very forthcoming. From the way he answered, I could surmise that he was involved in some kind of suspicious activity. Dragon stared at me fixedly, shifting his eyes only to exchange glances with Chen-yi.

“Who is it you want me to do? You with your measly two thousand yen.”

Standing defiantly with my hands on my hips, feet planted firmly on the tatami matting, I got down to business. It was nice being in the warm apartment, but I wanted to find out who I was doing and where we were supposed to do it. Though apparently it wasn’t going to be that easy.

“Well, who do you want to do first, Dragon or Chen-yi?”

“Wait a minute. I’m not doing two for two thousand yen. That’s outrageous.”

“You said yes.” Zhang grabbed me by the arms. “You never asked how many, did you. So I figured you understood. You can’t go now, you’ll go back on your word.”

With little choice, I pointed at Chen-yi. Young and seemingly reticent, Chen-yi was far preferable to the spooky-looking Dragon.

“No way!” Dragon interrupted. “We go according to age. That’s the Chinese custom. Zhang is first.”

“I just did him. He doesn’t need a turn,” I shouted. Zhang laughed caustically and barked some kind of order to Dragon in Chinese. Zhang in turn said something to Chen-yi. I was getting angry.

“What are you talking about?”

“We’re just wondering if we’d rather do it one at a time or all at once.”

“You’re out of your mind!” I screamed. “It’s one by one or not at all.”

“But you said it yourself, didn’t you? You said you’d do anything. You were pretty cool about it, weren’t you? I think you’ll enjoy doing what we ask.”

Chen-yi stood up and came toward me, and Dragon made a be-my-guest gesture. Then he said something to me in Chinese that I didn’t understand.

“Dragon says you’re too skinny—not much of a lay—but it’s been over half a year since he’s had a woman, so you’ll do.”

“That’s going too far!”

“Too far, is it?” Zhang laughed. “Ever since we came to your country that’s the kind of thing we hear. We’re constantly having our value appraised. ‘He’s bright’ or ‘he’s strong’ or ‘he’s shrewd’ or ‘he’s a hard worker.’ People evaluate us like they’d rate animals. Surely it’s the same for you. You’re in the business of selling your body, so you ought to be used to people sizing you up before they settle on a price. I bet you do what you do because you like it. Am I wrong?”

I was going to protest but Dragon began to tear at my coat. He knocked me down on the tatami. His violence caused my blue suit jacket to rise up around my chest; then Dragon started trying to push up my skirt. I was being accosted right there while Zhang and Chen-yi watched. That was a first for me. I was trash, the cheapest prostitute a man could have. I squeezed my eyes tight.

“Look at me! It’ll turn you on!” Zhang shouted gleefully.

I opened my eyes reluctantly and saw Zhang’s white socks and Chen-yi’s bare feet.

The one named Dragon had not taken a bath in weeks. He reeked. It was all I could do not to throw up, just guiding him into place. Instinctively, I covered my nose with my hand. Dragon didn’t seem to notice or else he didn’t care. He was too busy flailing about on top of me. I squeezed my eyes shut, held my nose, and lay there as cold as a stone Jiz. That’s the way it always was. I never felt a thing. I would lie there while a man stuck his thing in me and all I had to do was be patient. It wouldn’t take long. And that was it. Sometimes I would put on a little act of my own. But there was no need for that here.

I knew Zhang and Chen-yi were right there watching, but by then I didn’t really care. If I hadn’t gotten excited, like Zhang said, then I would not be embarrassed or even angry about doing it in front of them. But to do two men for two thousand yen? I did the math in my head. There was clearly no profit in it, only loss. Then why did I agree? That’s when I remembered that I had come to Zhang’s apartment because I wanted to use his toilet. How could I have forgotten something like that? Had I become completely numb even to my own feelings? Or perhaps even more aware? I couldn’t decide and my thoughts became a jumble. I had enjoyed my time with Zhang up on the roof. That was the first time I had felt such pleasure, and I wondered if it would happen again. Each time sex seemed the same, even though it was with different men. Sex certainly was strange. Ever since I ran into Yuriko, I’d felt uncertain, as if I were drifting around in a dream, and it felt good.

Dragon grabbed my shoulders roughly and let out a sharp groan. Then he came. Without really thinking anything much at all, I gazed up at the ceiling, which was covered here and there with brown stains. On the roof, right above where we were now, was where I’d had sex earlier with Zhang. I recalled throwing the condom and watching the semen leaking out over the roof. Perhaps it had seeped down into the ceiling here. Perhaps it was what had made those stains.

From time to time I find myself amused by the paucity of semen a customer will spew out after all that panting and moaning. And it’s for a puny product like that that a man will buy a prostitute like me? My nighttime self always excels my daytime self. If it weren’t for my nighttime self, what would become of my customers and their lame products? Tonight, for the first time I experienced joy that I was not born a man. Why? Because I thought men’s desires trivial. And because I had become the entity that acknowledged those desires.

I felt I could finally understand Yuriko’s freaky calm. Ever since Yuriko had been a little girl, she brought the world to her feet by using her sexuality. In her treatment of male desires of all kinds, she had built a world entirely out of men—even if only for the briefest of moments. It made me bitter. She didn’t have to study; she didn’t even have to work. She was able to bring the world to her feet by one method and one alone—because she was able to make men ejaculate. Now I would do the same. For a brief second I was drunk with the feeling of mastery.

I heard an exchange in Chinese and opened my eyes. Zhang and Chen-yi were sitting down by Dragon and me. They were staring right at me. Chen-yi, who didn’t look like he was older than his mid-twenties, was blushing and pressing his hands between his legs. Did you feel it? I wanted to ask. How’d you like it? I gazed over at Chen-yi from where I was on the floor. Chen-yi averted his eyes from my face as if he were angry and turned away.

“Chen-yi’s next.” Zhang gave Chen-yi a nudge.

Chen-yi looked reluctant to have sex in front of an audience and glared sulkily at Zhang as if in protest. But Zhang would have none of it. For a mere two thousand yen he had taken me and Dragon and Chen-yi and had us bending to his will. I could see I had not yet come to terms with Zhang’s world. I was going to have to conquer Zhang. I raised my arms and wrapped them around Zhang’s knees.

“You next.”

But he just brushed me aside and pushed Chen-yi over to me.

“Go on. Hurry up.”

Chen-yi reluctantly began removing his track suit. When Dragon saw Chen-yi’s erect penis, Dragon said something. I pulled a condom out of my bag and handed it to Chen-yi. Unaccustomed to them, Chen-yi was awkward, but he managed to put it on; then he took off his glasses and set them beside him on the tatami. What a jerk. Dragon snatched up the glasses and put them on, like a fool. The condescension and bitterness had faded from Dragon’s expression and I noticed that he looked relaxed and gentler. I expect my expression was similar.

Chen-yi embraced me, and then he started planting sloppy kisses on my face, which completely took me by surprise. Zhang had done the same thing. I opened my eyes and looked up to see Zhang staring down at me. My customers never kissed me. We just fucked. That was true even of my regulars like Yoshizaki and Arai. None of them kissed me, and none of them wanted to. Zhang urged me on with his eyes. I remembered having my first orgasm with him on the roof. If I could have more, I could master my own world. I wrapped my arms around Chen-yi’s back and began to kiss him back, writhing together with him as if our bodies were one. I felt Zhang’s hand on my left thigh, rubbing. His hand was warm. Dragon followed suit, touching my right thigh. I was being teased and touched and fondled by three men. I couldn’t have asked for more. I was a queen! God it was great. At that moment Chen-yi and I both came; for me, it was the second orgasm of my life.

Zhang put his hand on my head, brought his lips down to my ear, and whispered, his voice rough with excitement, “Did it feel good?”

I sat up and retrieved my wig, which had found its way to the other side of the room. Chen-yi looked back at me shyly, then quickly got dressed. Dragon sat there staring at my body while he smoked a cigarette. I put my wig back on and anchored it with a pin, then I started getting dressed.

“Let me use the bathroom.”

Zhang pointed to a set of veneer doors by the entryway. I was dizzy when I stood up. I guess that’s to be expected. I mean, that was the first time that I’d serviced three men one after the other like that. So many firsts in one day had worn me out, and I staggered to the bathroom door. It was filthy. The floor was wet with urine. Why do men have to be such pigs? It made me retch. The toilet, the trash on the stairs, the gunk in the seam of the tatami—they were all the same. I guess that’s why I began to feel a new sensation welling up inside me, a feeling of wretchedness I couldn’t shake. Fighting back the tears, I finished my business as quickly as I could.

“Want to do me again?” Zhang asked, as I came out of the bathroom.

I shook my head. “No. Your toilet is so filthy I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

“Well, welcome to reality.”

Was this reality, a place like this? Then what were the orgasms I’dhad? And that momentary taste of control? The feelings I had earlier welled up again. But why? Welcome to reality. That’s precisely why I wanted to live forever in the dream where I get to rule the world.

“I’m going.”

I put myself back together and glanced back into the room as I slipped into my high heels. Not one of the men looked at me as I left.

It was eleven-thirty when I got back to the Jiz statue. Yuriko would be coming around soon. I looked at my watch and I scanned the street for signs of her, but she didn’t turn up. Cold, tired, and irritated, I started to head for the station. And then I heard Yuriko calling to me from behind.

“Kazue, how’d it go tonight?”

She made her way slowly down the hill, dressed exactly like me: long jet-black hair, white face powder, blue eye shadow, and bright red lipstick. I felt I was beholding my own ghost, and a cold shiver went up my spine. Rock-bottom whore. A woman who exists only for the benefit of a few lousy cc’s of sperm. Monster. I deflected the question.

“What about you?”

Yuriko held up one finger. “One. A sixty-eight-year-old man. He said he saw a sex flick at the Bunkamura and got a hard-on. It made him want t

o go out and buy a woman—the first for him in ten years, he said. Kind of cute, don’t you think?”

“How much did you get?”

Yuriko resorted to hand gestures again, this time holding out four fingers. ¥40,000? I felt a rush of envy.

“Lucky you!”

“Hey, it was only four thousand yen!” Yuriko laughed as if she weren’t even referring to herself. “I’d never done a customer that cheap. But he said that was all he had, so I agreed. Can you believe it! When I was in my twenties I’d pull in three million, just in one night! And look at me now. Why is it that the older you get the less you can make? Even when you’re young and beautiful, the man is still after the same thing. I can’t figure why people make such a fuss over youth. You end up having sex the same way whether you’re young or old, don’t you?”

“So long as you’re not ugly, I don’t see why it matters if you’re old.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Yuriko shook her head solemnly. “It has nothing to do with looks. All men care about is whether the woman is young.”

“I guess. Hey, I’m curious. How’d you turn out to be so ugly?”

My nasty comment didn’t so much as provoke a blush out of Yuriko.

“Hmmm. I guess it was just fate. I was never that aware of my looks anyway. It was always the people around me who made such a fuss. It’s a lot easier this way, though.”

Yuriko pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her shoulder bag and asked, “So what kind of customer did you have tonight, Kazue?”

“Three foreigners. They were Chinese. I got thirty thousand yen for each, so I came away making ninety thousand.”

I lied through my teeth. Yuriko exhaled a sigh of cigarette smoke.

“Ah, I’m so jealous. If you find good customers like that, you should introduce me.”

“No way.”

“I’m not jealous because you made some money. It’s because if those men are willing to pay that kind of money to you, Kazue, they must be the type who like monsters. I mean, you’re ugly too. If some kid came across you in the dark, you can be sure he’d burst into tears. And you don’t have much of a future. You’re just going to keep falling lower and lower. You’re going to have to quit your job at the firm before long because no one’s going to be able to bear looking at you.”

Yuriko’s eyes glittered. I may have been a rock-bottom whore but the thought of slipping even lower frightened me. According to Yuriko’s prophecy, at some point a monster-loving man would appear and kill me. I wondered if I’d be killed by Zhang. I remembered the humiliation I’d felt when he tossed me aside after sex. He hated me. He hated sex. But he liked monsters.

A strong wind blew up, and I clutched the front of my trench coat closed, wishing I could peer inside Zhang’s heart. He might have spoken gently, but his world was a sordid one, full of lies. And yet I felt only joy at having been admitted to that sordid world. I was much more terrified of Zhang’s impenetrable nature than I had been of Eguchi.

“Hey, Yuriko, what do you think of your older sister?”

Yuriko smiled faintly at the Jiz statue.

“Tell me.”

I gave Yuriko’s fatty shoulder a squeeze. At least a head taller than me, Yuriko turned slowly around. Her gaze was unfocused, a glimmer of suspicion in her eyes.

“Why do you want to know about my sister?”

“Zhang, my customer, prattled on and on about his younger sister, which reminded me that you had an older one, that’s all. She died—Zhang’s sister, I mean. He seemed to have been crazy about her.”

“My sister was madly jealous of me from the minute I was born. It was almost as if she were in love with me. I was completely negated by her.”

Oh, God, Yuriko was getting ready to go off on another one of her philosophical jags. Her ramblings confused me. I was in no mood for thinking on such an abstract level. All I wanted to do was cover my ears and hope she’d shut up. But Yuriko kept on going.

“Sisters? Ha! We didn’t get along then and we don’t get along now. My sister and I were two different people, but we were really one. She is a virgin, too timid to take on a man, and I’m the opposite: I can’t live without men. I was born to be a whore. We’re like opposite ends of the spectrum. Interesting, huh?”

“I don’t think it’s interesting at all,” I spat out. “Why is it, in this world of ours, that women are the only ones who have a hard time surviving?”

“Simple. They don’t have delusions.” Yuriko let out an earsplitting laugh.

“So we’d be able to live if we had delusions?”

“It’s too late for us, Kazue.”

“Oh, really?”

I had worn away the reality of my job at the firm with my delusions. In the distance I heard the sound of the train on the Inokashira Line. It wouldn’t be long before the last train had gone by. I decided to stop by the convenience store and buy a beer and drink it on the way home. I left Yuriko standing there, stamping her feet against the cold.

“Well, work hard!”

This was Yuriko’s answer: “Death awaits.”

I caught the last train. When I got home, the chain was on the front door and I couldn’t get in. They’d turned all the lights off and latched the door, clearly to lock me out. That made me so furious I rang the doorbell over and over. Finally I heard someone pull the chain out of the latch. My sister stood in the doorway, looking pissed off.

“Don’t you dare lock me out again.”

My sister lowered her gaze. She must have been sleeping. She had pulled a sweater over her pajamas. Her gaze had brushed up against something deep inside me, and it irritated me.

“What the hell kind of look is that? You got something to say to me?”

My sister didn’t answer. She shivered slightly as the cold air—and the depravity I had brought home with me—swept in from behind. While I slipped off my shoes, she returned to her bedroom. Our family was falling apart. I stood in the chilly corridor, petrified.