he first thing I heard was a woman’s whispered laugh. And then I opened my eyes and saw some heavy, dingy green curtains. The same crummy curtains my old lady had bought at Peacock for my room, so at first I was sure I was back in my house. It was the first time I’d slept in a bed in days and I’d slept so soundly my memory had flown away. I totally forgot that I’d beaten my mother to death; to me, at that moment, the old lady was just an annoying woman I had to put up with. I was positive she’d slipped into my room while I was asleep and was whispering something. Shut the hell up! Get outta here! The old lady, after all, was the only woman I was close to, so I figured it had to be her.

“No, I’m fine. Believe me.”

But it wasn’t my mother talking. It was the girl I’d just met, this high school girl who went by this kind of embarrassing nickname. Finally the memory came back to me—my mother was dead. Thank God, I thought, she’s no longer in this world. She’s vanished forever. I was so relieved I started to laugh, silently. The skin from my cheek to my chin was wet. I was flustered at first, thinking I must have been crying in my sleep, but it turned out to be drool. I quietly wiped it all away with the back of my hand, pretending to remain asleep while I listened in on Kirarin’s conversation. I had no idea what this girl was thinking, why she would want to be with me. As head of military affairs, I should have done a better job of investigating my opponent’s mind-set beforehand. Why I should know a term like “head of military affairs,” I had no idea, but I knew everything now. Ever since I was riding my bike, trying to stay awake, the spirit of that tortured Japanese soldier was with me.

“I understand that you’re worried, Teru, but I’m fine. I’m okay. I appreciate your worrying about me, I really do. He’s kind of weird, but interesting. I mean, when we met at the station we were arguing about what we were wearing. And he insisted he was dressed like an army private. Kind of crazy, right? A weird guy. But I don’t think he’s going to hurt me. I don’t know why, but I feel sure of that. So you can go home. I won’t tell you where we are. It’s a love hotel. What? No, we’re not doing it. No way! I wouldn’t do it with a guy like that. Yeah, okay. I’ll call you if that happens. Just don’t worry. I’ve hung out with guys in Shibuya, so I’ll be okay. And you know what? He’s made me want to get revenge. No, not on my mother. On Wataru. The guy who did those horrible things to me. I loved Wataru, that’s why I let him come inside me. And then he went and slept with another girl, the bastard. And a complete idiot, no less. When I realized he did it ’cause he looked down on me, I couldn’t forgive him. This was more than a year ago, but it still makes me totally depressed. I’m thinking of meeting him, and killing him. I feel dark. Dark Kirarin. Not the cute, cheerful Kirarin everybody’s used to. But it feels good, somehow. You know what I mean? You really do? This is the first time I ever felt like taking revenge on someone. It makes me feel great, happy like never before. So anyway, wait, huh? Yeah, you’re right. Even the way I speak’s gotten a little tougher….”

Kirarin gave a small sigh and hung up, ending her call with this Teru guy. She immediately started calling someone else. No doubt Yuzan or Toshi or Terauchi, one of her dumb group of friends. She was leaving a message. While I was asleep she must have stolen back the phone I requisitioned. The girl was more formidable than I imagined.

“Hi, it’s me, Kirarin. Call me, don’t send a text message. Something really big’s happening and I want to tell you about it. See ya.”

I got out of bed and yanked open the curtains. Beyond the rice field outside there was another love hotel much like this one. It was supposed to be like some European castle, though with a huge dome on top. And on top of that, there was a large orange crescent moon. Kind of surreal. Like a sickle stuck in the head of Atsushi ¯

Onita, the pro wrestler. I felt excited, like when ¯

Onita and Mr. Pogo are getting it on in the ring. I got all worked up looking at it.

“You slept really well. You were snoring.”

Kirarin hurriedly ended her call and said this in a sweet nasal voice. All of a sudden, I had this stupid memory of how I used to dream of a younger sister. There was a guy in our school who wrote his own porno manga and used to bring them to school, and he’d always have a young girl character in the story who calls the hero “Brother!” And of course this “older brother” commands his “little sister” to take off her school uniform and then takes his time while he enjoys violating her. The girl protests but removes her own panties. How stupid. The guy who wrote this is a superbrain, the kind you know could get into Tokyo University Law Department, so it’s kind of amazing how predictable his manga always were. What really makes me laugh is how when he used to read his manga aloud to everybody he always used this sweet voice for the young girl character. “Brother—please don’t punish me! I’m scared!” My point is that Kirarin’s voice was just like the voice that guy used when he acted out the young girl character from his manga. And it made me really pissed.

I don’t need a younger sister. I don’t need any women at all. I’ve been transformed. Maybe because I took a bath after we checked into this love hotel. As soon as my salt suit was washed away I completed my new personality. The soul of the former Japanese soldier.

I used to be way hornier than most guys. When we lived in that condo, I liked the young wife next door; I listened in on their lovemaking and even stole her panties. And after we moved, I enjoyed peeping in on Toshi. But not anymore. I was really happy at my transformation—or evolution, you might say. I had to change, or else I couldn’t steel myself for battle. So I cautioned Kirarin in no uncertain terms.

“Knock it off with that anime voice.”

“Well, excuse me,” she said, her face all gloomy. “But that’s my normal voice.”

“No, it isn’t. When you’re flirting with guys, your voice changes. That’s a part of you I’ll take care of, you can count on it. And who said you could use the phone, anyway?” I grabbed the phone back from her and shoved it in my pants pocket. “It’s been requisitioned by the military. And you stole it. You looking to go into the brig?”

“Brig? What are you talking about, you idiot?”

Kirarin turned away, angry. Her expression was still flirty, though—I could tell. She was getting a thrill being with me, the murderer. What a flirt.

“Nothing stupid about it. Are you going to follow orders or what?”

“No way. Who the heck do you think you are, anyway?” she complained. I didn’t like the way her lips stuck out when she spoke. It was pornographic. Now that I’d done my mother in, I had to mow down all the rest of the pornographic women in the world. Somebody’s got to give the order. I glanced around the room, looking for an officer. But no one was there.

“Stop talking like that.”

“How can you say that?” she said. “You make me so angry. Who paid for this hotel, anyway? You said you wanted to go to Karuizawa, but you were getting so sleepy you almost passed out on the street. I should have just left you. Without me, they wouldn’t have let you stay here. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so nice to you.”

“I collapsed because it was a long, hard march.”

“You’re schizo, you know that?”

Kirarin laughed shrilly. Her laughter hurt my ears, and I wanted to rip my head off. The reality came to me—I’m alone on the front line, the only one still fighting the war. Before that old Filipino man and woman can torture me, I’ve got to escape into the jungle. And regroup for the next battle. My war has just begun. That’s the world I’m in—my world. And I have to train this woman to be a combatant, as soon as possible. ’Cause I’m the veteran soldier.

“Hey there, recruit! Suck me.”

I said it just to harass her, but my penis started to visibly harden.

“Are you crazy? No way.” Kirarin brushed my hand aside with unexpected force and escaped to a corner of the room. “You’re the worst. Something’s wrong with you, you know that?”

“Of course it is. I wasted my old lady. I ran after her like this and smacked her a good one right in the head with my bat. Could you have done that?”

I snatched up a pillow and swung it around hard, like it was a bat. Fuzz and strands of hair and pubic hairs flew all over the place. Kirarin stared at the pillow, then at me, like she’d never seen such a gross sight in her life.

“No way I could do that,” she said. “I like my mom.”

“What about your dad, then?”

“My dad? That I might consider,” Kirarin said, her gaze suddenly flitting about the room. “My dad’s a totally cold person. When I was in junior high, we got this call late at night. When I picked up, a woman was on the other end and said, ‘Are you there, Daddy? If you are, give it to me. I’m gonna die.’ Is that the kind of thing you should say to a child? I don’t think so. I was so pissed. Go ahead and die, why don’t you, I thought. But I was still little, so I went and woke up my father. I was careful to make sure Mom didn’t find out. And Dad just pretended to be asleep and ignored me. So this is the kind of man he is, I thought—pitiful. I felt sorry for the woman, but one of them was as bad as the other. And I started to hate my mother, too, since she’d chosen this kind of guy to marry. I went through a stage where I was angry and distrusted all adults. I hate all you jerks, I thought. Especially my father. Many times I felt like killing him. But I don’t care anymore. I don’t feel like murdering him. ’Cause I’m old enough to do whatever I like on my own now. That’s why I think you were wrong. You went too far. I really feel sorry for your mother, you know. You’re going to suffer the rest of your life.”

This declaration of hers really pissed me off. My life proceeds at a different speed from other people’s. This is kind of an out-of-date way of putting it, but ever since the murder I’ve been turbocharged. I’m free to change my world any way I want to. No more being told what to do, having people lay a guilt trip on me. I’m in control. I’m the commander in charge of the battle to create my world. Still, Kirarin’s attitude made me uneasy.

“Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?” I said. “You didn’t grab my weapon by any chance, did you?”

I rummaged around in my backpack, which I’d put next to my bed. The butcher knife I’d just bought had to be inside. My tool to kill them all before they get to me—before that scrawny old coot hauls me out to the main square and drop-kicks me, before the old hag spits all over me, before they bash me over the head with a hammer. The knife was still flat inside its box. Kirarin was covering her mouth with her hand, but she was clearly sneering at how upset I’d got.

She doesn’t get it. I suddenly realized this. This girl just doesn’t get it. I’m in the middle of a war and she doesn’t give a damn. Which is why she’s laughing. She just came to see me in the midst of battle. She, and all her little friends, are just having a ball observing me. You’re right. I killed my old lady. And I’ll probably cry about it the rest of my life. But enough with your cheap sympathy—I don’t need it. I got even angrier.

“If you think I’m weird, then get out of here! I’m not some public show for you.”

“Hmm—so you can be serious if you want to.”

“I am serious.”

I wanted to threaten her a bit, so I pulled the knife out of the box. I held on to the black handle and swooshed the knife around a couple of times. The butcher knife was long and sharp and scary-looking. I looked around for something to use so I could hang it around my waist, but all I could see was the belt to the bathrobe. That would look stupid, so I gave up the idea. Kirarin remained in a corner, frozen. But her eyes showed a lot of respect. Or maybe fear? Doesn’t matter. Anyway, this was the second time I saw a woman look this confused. I remembered how Mom looked when she saw me swing a bat at her, an awful feeling to remember. The instant she realized her whole world was crumbling around her. Or maybe she was repenting for how badly she’d treated me. At any rate, her face reflected the chaos that had overtaken her.

My mom was definitely at fault. She was guilty of creating a history between us, a past that justified me putting her in her place. Guilty of leading me around by the nose, messing up my life, revealing my secrets to the world. I was a colony and she was the occupying force. She created the rubber plantation, made me work from dawn to night, then took away the whole harvest for herself. A colony where everything was plundered. I don’t know what exactly was stolen from me. But most definitely the old lady continued to steal something. In Kirarin’s case, there was no reason yet to get rid of her. Being slutty wasn’t enough of a reason. I lowered the butcher knife. I’m still sane. Not crazy yet.

“I’m trying to help,” she said. “So stop threatening me.”

Even from a distance I could see that tears were welling up in her eyes. Hey, I thought you respected me. Finding it all kinds of strange, I put the butcher knife back in its box.

“You’re an enlistee,” I told her. “A comrade in arms. So I’d better treat you well. But listen, now that you’re in my unit you’d better obey orders. In the army you have ranks and orders and that’s it. I’m a veteran and you’re just a new recruit, so you have to take care of me.”

“You mean you want me to suck you, right?” Kirarin shouted disgustedly.

“That’s right. So get to it—on the double.”

I stomped over to her and grabbed her hair. “Knock it off!” she shouted, and easily brushed away my hand. Gooseflesh rippled up on my skin and I stood stock-still. I was remembering how it felt when I grabbed hold of my mom’s hair and thought, She’s a woman, but also how creepy my slutty old lady felt to me. What I mean is, I didn’t just wipe out my mom’s sins, but her sluttiness, too. So maybe her being slutty was part of what she was guilty of? The more I thought about it, the more I couldn’t figure it out, and I gave the pillow that lay on the gray carpet a good kick.

“Why are you so obsessed with the army? Are you like one of those military nerds?”

Kirarin took a can of Pocari Sweat out of the fridge. I didn’t tell her how I figured out that the soldier tortured by the Filipinos and I were one and the same. No sense in telling a slut such things. Kirarin sipped at her drink like it tasted really bad and said, “Why’d you kill your mom? And how’d you do it?”

I shrugged.

“Telling you isn’t going to help any. Stop acting like a prosecutor.”

“But I want to know,” she insisted.

Kirarin swung her crossed legs. I was surprised to see that the downy hair on her legs was blond. The hair on my mom’s legs was dark like a guy’s. It always struck me as animal-like and grossed me out.

“Why’s the hair on your legs like a foreigner’s?”

“I bleach it,” Kirarin said, making fun of me again, with this look on her face like, How in the world have you survived up till now without knowing that? “In the summer girls don’t shave, they bleach it. While you guys are studying your butts off and jerking off, we girls are up to more clever things.”

“Do that with mine, too.”

“I didn’t bring any bleach with me.”

“Go buy some. There’s gotta be a convenience store nearby.”

Kirarin laughed her head off. “Now why would you want to do that? I thought you were on the run.”

The answer was clear enough. I wanted to change into a different person, somebody much tougher. I thought it’d be cool to have blond leg hairs as my weapon, instead of the old salt suit. I got back in bed and lay down. I felt like I could still sleep forever. Kirarin inserted a couple of hundred-yen coins into the room TV. She flicked through a couple of news programs before finally settling on a music show. She turned around and said, “There’s nothing on the news about you. The world’s forgotten all about you.”

I stood up.

“Really?”

“They were all so worked up about it, now there’s nothing.”

“Hey, who’s the smartest of your friends?”

“Terauchi,” she replied immediately. “She’s got to be the brightest. Her face is kind of classically pretty, and she’s a little frumpy, but not too bad. But she’s kind of dark sometimes, and you can’t figure out what she’s thinking. She’s always fooling around saying dumb things, but when it’s exam time she knows what she’s doing and does a great job. She’s kind of a mystery woman. No matter what, though, our group tends to rely on her. She can get on your nerves sometimes, and I can’t stand it, but she can be a lot of fun, so I like her. Terauchi’s dark side is kind of like yours. I’m not sure how, exactly. She might actually be nuts, just like you.”

When I was calling all of the girls on Toshi’s cell phone, Terauchi was the one who abruptly hung up on me. I found her reaction more soldierly than that of Yuzan or Kirarin. She’s a real cadet. By cadet, I mean those elite officers who graduate from the military academy. The reason she says all kinds of stupid things is she’s dumbing herself down to the level of girls like Kirarin and Yuzan. But when the pedal hits the metal, you could count on her to know what to do, ’cause she’s a real soldier. All of sudden I thought maybe Terauchi was the only one who could help me out.

“Tell me more about her!”

“Hey, knock it off with that tone of voice, like you’re ordering me around.”

Kirarin stuck out her lips, her old flirty habits.

“Stop flirting,” I said. “And sit up straight.”

Kirarin frowned, clicked her tongue, and said something. I heard some voice mumbling this: “Duty is heavier than a mountain, death lighter than a feather.”

“What was that you just said?” I asked. “You really know a lot more than I do.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

Kirarin shot me a little disgusted look. So what was this—the hallucination hour? I was really happy. Who knows, maybe I am a genius after all. Problem is, nobody knows it. It’s all my old lady’s fault, her and her views on raising kids, and the kind of education she and my school forced down my throat. I should have told the world what a genius I am, but I blew it by not leaving any note behind in my room. Before I completely lost it, I should have written something down.

“They say juvenile offenders are most often precocious and extremely bright, people who can’t adjust to the education system. So I think I should leave behind a novel or poem or something, like that murderer Sakakibara did, something to shake people up. Something to let people know how gifted I am.”

“I don’t know,” Kirarin said. “Most of the time don’t they just complain about their home life? How their parents mistreated them, or got divorced, how they weren’t loved enough? But yours was a decent enough family.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. I want to write a manifesto for my crime.”

“So why don’t you?”

Kirarin didn’t seem to get it, and took another reluctant sip of her Pocari Sweat.

“I can’t,” I growled. “I don’t have the time. They’re chasing me. Plus, I have to get back to Tokyo to kill the old man. Who has the time?”

“So forget about it.”

“I’m not going to forget about it. I want to get something down on paper before I kill my dad.”

“Are you for real?” Kirarin shot me a serious look. “I say give it up. It’ll just get the media all worked up again.”

I ignored her. This was no time for logical arguments.

“I’ll get Terauchi to write it. You said we’re kind of alike, right? She’s smart and efficient. So I’ll have Terauchi ghostwrite it for me. Make her part of my military staff. The head of propaganda.”

“That’s a dumb idea.”

Kirarin dissolved in laughter, but I was deadly serious. I took the cell phone I’d re-requisitioned out of my pocket and handed it to her.

“Call Terauchi,” I ordered her.

“Call her yourself.”

“My battery’s about out.”

“Mine, too,” she grumbled, but handed over her cell phone. “It’s number five on the speed dial.”

“What’s up?” this listless girl’s voice answered right away, like she’d been waiting for the call.

“It’s me. Worm.”

The line was silent for a second, and then she spoke briskly.

“You’re kidding, right? Why the heck are you calling me? Don’t bother me.”

She spoke in this quick, low voice that revealed how smart she was. The kind of girl I have the most trouble dealing with. Totally different from a lowly foot soldier like Kirarin.

“I’ve got something to ask you,” I said.

“It’s so weird you’d use the nickname Worm yourself. It was Toshi who gave you that nickname.”

“Whatever. That’s not the point.”

I was getting irritated, finding myself adjusting to her tempo.

“Is Kirarin really with you? Put her on.”

While I was asleep Kirarin must have been phoning everyone. But I couldn’t let on that I knew that.

“It’s top secret, so I can’t say.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Terauchi said solemnly, “just put her on. That’s her phone you’re using, right? So is she alive? At least tell me that.”

There was no way around it, so I handed the phone to Kirarin. She answered in that cutesy, friendly voice she reserves for phone calls.

“Everything’s fine, Terauchi. I’m so sorry I made you worry about me. I’ve been going through some really weird times, I can tell you that. I called my parents and told them I was staying over at your place, so play along, okay? I’ll leave Worm after a while, so not to worry. He’s not dangerous at all, though kind of weird. Just a sec, I’ll put him back on. He said he wants your advice about something.”

“My advice?!” Terauchi was pissed. “Listen, you’re threatening Kirarin, right? She’s a good kid, so don’t trick her.”

“You’re the ones who’ve been tricked,” I said. “You know something? She’s pretty hot.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Damn. I didn’t give a shit about these girls’ power relationships, their friendship, the kind of people they really were.

“Forget about it. I want you to ghostwrite something for me. How about it?”

“By ghostwrite do you mean a ghost story? Or maybe some horror story?” Terauchi said, trying to make a lame joke out of it.

“Gimme a break. I want you to pretend you’re a boy who’s killed his mother and write a story about it. It doesn’t have to be long, but something that’s better than what that killer Sakakibara wrote. Sprinkle in some Dostoyevsky or Nietzsche or whatever. But do a good job of incorporating those, so nobody can trace the source. Then sort of wrap it up like ‘Evangelion.’ Or maybe—it might be better to make it all avant garde–ish, know what I mean? Philosophy of life, moaning and groaning about the absurdity of it all, like that. I’m counting on you. If a story doesn’t work out, then a poem’s fine. If you make it kind of incomprehensible and look cool then a poem might just do the trick. The kind of poem that they could use as evidence in a psych evaluation, that sort of thing. Something that hides my real intentions and confuses the reader.”

Terauchi’s voice revealed her surprise.

“You want me to do this?” she asked. “Why me? You going to pay me? It’s not worth it, even if you did. I mean, if they catch you then they’ll print what I wrote. If people think it’s well done, that doesn’t do me any good. You’ll get all the credit. If they don’t like it and it comes out that I ghostwrote it, then I’ll be in trouble. Serious trouble. So no matter how you cut it, it’s a lose-lose situation for me.”

“But if it doesn’t come out that you wrote it and people think it stinks, then I’m the loser.”

“Then why don’t you write it?” Terauchi laughed through her nose.

“You idiot! If I could do that, I wouldn’t have to ask for your help.”

“You really can’t write it, can you? What a joke. You’re one of those kids at K High at the bottom of the barrel, right? You got in okay but burned out in the process. Well, forget it, I’m too busy. I’m taking three summer school classes—English, classical literature, and geography. Summer’s a critical point for me, so why do I have to write your stupid manifesto? I have only five months left before entrance exams. They’re gonna put you in juvie anyway, so what does it matter? Yuzan told me you’re still saying stupid things like having to give up on taking the entrance exams for Tokyo University. You’re just trying to show off. Loony guys like you who kill their mothers are the pits, you know that? You’re still a child, but you’re oblivious to that fact. Killing your mom, running from the law—what’s the fun in that?”

“There’s nothing fun about it.”

“So why’re you telling me to write a novel for you? You should write a memo yourself. That would be much more interesting, from a criminal psychology perspective.”

Terauchi didn’t sound like she was going to stop talking anytime soon. I wanted to tell her about how I transformed when I was riding around on that blazingly hot bike, but I didn’t think it would make any difference. So I decided to go on the offensive.

“If you don’t write it for me, you can kiss your friend good-bye. I just bought a butcher knife a while ago. Killing one person or two—it’s all the same to me. I’ll see what it feels like to stab somebody.”

Killing one person or two—it’s all the same to me. This clichéd phrase that killers use in movies wouldn’t leave my mind. Death is lighter than a feather.

“Are you serious?”

Terauchi let out an unexpected shout. Behind me, Kirarin was saying, “He’s lying! He’s just trying to scare you!” I shoved her out of the way. She fell down behind me but was still laughing this weird kind of laugh, like the whole thing was hilarious. Going all hysterical on me. I covered the phone as best I could so Terauchi wouldn’t hear. But Kirarin wouldn’t stop laughing, so I covered her mouth with my hand.

“I might really kill her. My mind’s already messed up. And if you tell the police about any of this, it’s all over for her. Got it?”

“Yeah, I got it. I’ll write it for you, don’t worry.” Terauchi sighed, giving in. “When do you want it by?”

“It’s supposed to be something I wrote while I’m on the run, so try to do it quick. Within three days. If you can, e-mail it to Kirarin’s phone. I’ll copy it down and carry it around with me. That way if they catch me, I can show it to them.”

“So can I write it like a bunch of memos?”

“I told you already. Make it a story or a poem. Something creative.”

“So it’d be cooler to have it not be something introspective?”

Terauchi was one smart girl, and I thought about what she said. Something introspective would negate my whole battle. I gave her a command: “Fight to the bitter end!”

“I got it. I’ll be a regular kamikaze.”

She said this very coolly and abruptly hung up. That click sounded to me like the limitless contempt she had for me. Made me angry. But I’d gotten one task squared away, which made me happy. I looked down at Kirarin, who was still on the floor. Her hysterics over, she was looking away from me sullenly.

“Lights out,” I said. “Tomorrow we’re going to rob a taxi to secure some funds.”

I lay down on the bed but Kirarin stayed where she was, sprawled on the filthy carpet. It pissed me off, and I yelled at her.

“What’s the matter? You planning to sleep there? What’s your problem?”

“Nothing,” she said, an upset girl’s voice filtering up from the floor. But I was too starving to care. I’d had only a muffin in

the morning and nothing since. No supply sergeant around. I shoved a pillow against my empty stomach and tried to get to sleep. Just then I heard sobbing coming from below.

“Stop crying. It bothers me.”

“You mean you don’t think of me as a woman?”

Maybe I should kill her. Seriously. I tried to control my anger as she went on with her rant.

“I’m the one who should be angry,” she said. “I mean, what’s the point of me even being here? You’ve ripped my pride to shreds. Nobody’s ever treated me like this before. I knew you were weird, but still I took a great risk in coming here to be with you. Spending one night with a criminal, a guy who killed his mother—my reputation’s shot to hell. I’ll never get married now. No more Cute Kirarin—from now on it’s Dark Kirarin. So how come you’re acting so nice to Terauchi and letting her do this intellectual work while all I am is a hostage? After you called me a new recruit and were driving me so hard. It’s not fair.”

“She’s a cadet, that’s why.”

“What do you mean, ‘cadet’?”

“She’s officer material.”

All of a sudden, I sensed Kirarin standing up in the dark. It actually scared me. I wanted to wipe out all the noisy women, all the sluts in the world, but now I had one right in front of me who was a total pain in the ass. I braced myself, thinking she was going to try to mess up the secret agreement I’d gone to all that trouble to make with Terauchi.

“Why the hell am I here, anyway?” Kirarin shouted. Her spit hit my face, but I kept quiet. That’s for you to figure out, I thought. I’m busy with my own battles, and just surviving today is as much as I can handle.

“Answer me. Why am I here?”

“You’re the one who decided to come out here, not me.”

“That’s a lie,” she said, sitting on the bed. “A lie! You’re the one who told me, ‘I’ll take you to another world.’ That’s why I came here. Remember? You told me, ‘Why don’t we get transformed together? I can make you into a new person. And we’ll wipe the smug smile off your ex-boyfriend’s face.’ You’re playing around at being a soldier, but you don’t care about me at all. You’ve abandoned me. You asked Terauchi to write your poem or whatever for you, but why not ask me? I can write a poem if I have to. Just throw some phrases together. Anybody can do that. Terauchi might be a cadet or whatever, but I’m a soldier, so you better not underestimate me. Or discriminate against me. You’re so totally sneaky. If this is the kind of battle you’re fighting, then count me out! It’s just one awful thing after another.”

I hadn’t said these set phrases to Kirarin in order to recruit her into the army or anything. I’d just felt that way at the time. And now I just didn’t feel like that at all. It’s the truth, isn’t it? Sure, it’s a contradiction, but so what? I was tired and hungry, but still I tried to rack my poor brain to figure out how to quell this insurrection. Then all of a sudden she jumped on top of me and straddled me. She was heavy and I let out a gasp.

“Get off me, stupid.”

Kirarin pinned my two arms above my head and whispered in my ear.

“Or maybe I should take you to another world? You act all cool, but you’re just a virgin. Why don’t you come back in ten years.”

A slut. A real slut. Kirarin’s thin hip joints rubbed against my belly and even though I was pissed, I got hard right away. I had no clue what to do. Nobody’s ever told me how to do it with a woman. I mean, I wasn’t dealing here with some cute “li’l sis” who’d take her pants off at my command. Girls were guys’ playthings only in manga. I shoved away her arms and drew her close. Her soft body felt great. Her slim frame, her hair with a slight scent of sweat. So I was finally going to get laid. Maybe it’d be like in Mishima’s story “Patriotism,” all hot and heavy. I pictured that photo of Mishima, dressed only in a loincloth, brandishing a Japanese sword, and suddenly I froze. Wasn’t I supposed to be beyond needing a girl? How could I get the spirit and the flesh to work together here? I was off my guard, and Kirarin sent me flying and I banged my head on the headboard.

“Ow! What are you doing?”

“You’re pathetic. A soldier who’s terrible at sex is terrible in war, too.”

Damn. I grabbed her tight. I had to get on top, rip her clothes off, spread her legs, and put it inside. But how? If I ordered her to suck me, would she really put my cock in her mouth without a fight? Was this like a wartime rape or something? Ideas were spinning around in my brain, but none of the simulations I came up with were of any help. What a pain. Maybe I should go ahead and waste her. My brain was short-circuiting and all I could come up with was this simple solution. I was impatient. This was war. War. Kill her! In the gloom, I could tell that Kirarin was staring at me. Then she spoke in this cold-as-ice voice.

“Knock it off. Don’t touch me. I don’t feel like sleeping with a murderer.”

I let her go. I was afraid of this real enemy now, of Kirarin. The enemies I should be battling—the police, society—still hadn’t shown up. But right in front of me was another kind of enemy. A wall I couldn’t climb over. Kill! Kill!! Shut off the brain circuits.

“I was just too caught up in this whole thing about getting revenge on Wataru,” Kirarin was saying. “When you told me you’d show me another world, it got me all excited. But being with you isn’t going to lead to anything good. I can tell that now.”

She got out of bed and ran her fingers through her hair.

“I’m not interested in you anymore,” she said. “I’m going home.”

Was she serious? I was suddenly pulled back to reality.

“Give me the money for the room,” I said.

“No way. That’d make me an accomplice.”

My brain circuits went poof! and shorted out again. Smoke coming out and everything. I jumped into action. I grabbed the box in my backpack, the one with the butcher knife. When Kirarin saw this, she gave a little scream.

“Get down on your knees,” I commanded.

Kirarin knelt down on the floor and bowed in front of me. I stepped on her long hair. I could feel her shaking through my leg. That’s right—that’s how you surrender.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Really. If you need money, I’ll give it to you.”

“I’ll requisition the money. You stay here. That’s an order.”

* * *

I stayed awake, keeping watch over the POW to make sure she didn’t escape. The prisoner was sobbing, but then she fell asleep. I occupied the sofa and went through her belongings that I’d confiscated. A purse with 18,600 yen. A student ID card. Her swollen purse was filled with cards from various stores, a library card, a commuter pass, and so on. I looked at the photo of her on the ID. In her school uniform she looked even more like a “li’l sis.” Long hair, slightly droopy eyes, and a perplexed look. Her lips pouty, pretending to be sweet and innocent. The exact kind of girl the perverts in my class would drool over. A small makeup bag was stuffed full of things—a handkerchief, tissue paper, lipstick, deodorant, oil-blotting tissue. Her cell phone. In the bottom of her bag was a movie theater ticket stub. It was just three days ago I was enjoying talking with the prisoner about movies. Seemed more like thirty years ago.

I was terribly lonely then, heading for the swimming pool my family used to go to, and I was upset, wondering if there was some way of reversing time. So the prisoner’s sweet voice made me happy at the moment. But not now—it just pisses me off like you wouldn’t believe. Not just the prisoner, but all of them piss me off—my old man, relatives, our house. You name it. Everything and everybody just got in the way now, and all I wanted was to go somewhere, anywhere, as long as it was far away from them.

I was getting closer to the real essence of who I am. A revelation was welling up from inside me. What that essence was, I had no idea, but I was getting more and more confused, my existence more pointless by the minute. Is that who I am? Is that all? I got awfully sad, and tears started to stream down my face. I wiped away my tears with the pri

soner’s handkerchief, which smelled like perfume and detergent. From out of nowhere I felt like reality was going to crush me. The reality of having murdered my mother. Fight on! Fight on! I tried like crazy to stifle the tears. Just then the prisoner’s cell phone rang. It was Toshi. I felt rescued.

“Hi,” she said. “Sorry for calling back so late. I didn’t realize I had a message.”

“It’s me,” I said.

“Oh, I see. What about Kirarin?” Toshi wasn’t surprised at all. “Is she there?”

“She’s asleep.”

“Are you doing okay? Are you all right?” I didn’t know what to say. “It’s one o’clock already. Why aren’t you asleep? Can’t you sleep?”

I hate kind girls. They’re dangerous. A warning buzzer went off inside me. Danger! Danger! I had no clue why.

“Hey, did you hear me?”

“I’m listening,” I said.

“Yuzan said Kirarin got in touch with her. When she said she was with you, I couldn’t believe it. I guess I never thought she was interested in you.”

I’m not interested in you anymore. The prisoner’s comment came back to me.

“Your dad stopped by our house today.”

“How come?”

“Just to apologize for all the trouble. Seems like he’s making the rounds of the neighbors. He said he can’t sleep at night, wondering where his son is, wandering somewhere. He’s miserable about losing his wife, but he said that all he can think of is saving his son’s soul. At night when he’s all alone in the house, he obsesses over what happened and blames himself. He said sometimes he wants to die. And when he feels like that, he says he keeps himself together by staring at straight lines for all he’s worth.”

“Straight lines?” I said in a loud voice. “What do you mean?”

“Objects that are straight. Like the frame of a shoji screen or a pillar. Staring at things that are straight, he said, makes him feel like there’s a world that’s still stable and solid. He said he can be more objective that way. He can objectively keep his act together and wait for his son to come home.”

What a load of crap. My old man was so full of it, I didn’t know what to say. A stable world this late in the game? The world had come undone and floated away long ago. The idiot. Objective—what sort of crap is that? That’s why all you can see is a totally flat world. I made up my mind right then and there—I might be confused, but I was going to forge ahead. Toward the even more incomprehensible, chaotic front lines. Confusion. If the old man looked at straight lines to keep his act together, I was going to stare at curved lines and go down in flames. My eyes flitted around the room, looking for curved lines. Wall, floor, ceiling, door, TV. Straight lines everywhere.

Then I looked over at the body of my prisoner, lying in the bed.

“Hey, Worm,” Toshi said. “Can you hear me?”

I switched off the cell phone.